


Email Confessions

by marshmallowtasha



Series: Look To Your Roots [1]
Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 20:08:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 41,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1700909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marshmallowtasha/pseuds/marshmallowtasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Veronica discovers that sometimes all it takes is a little prompting to open the floodgates. Post movie and TDTL.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing. Rob Thomas owns everything. Please don't sue me.

_Screw it._

Veronica pulled her ear buds out of her ears, tossed her iPhone to the empty side of the bed, turned on her bedside lamp, and grabbed her tablet off the side table.

It had been 78 days since Logan left. Over two months of sporadic Skype calls and even rarer phone calls. His call tonight had done wonders to alleviate the crushing band around her chest that installed itself after they got cut off that last time. She had been trying to email him everyday, but with the case the last few weeks and her worry, it had been harder to keep them sounding upbeat. It became clear that her usual approach to these emails wasn’t going to work anymore. She had to trust that Logan was mature enough and focused enough not to get distracted by an email that related more than random stories about the latest idiocy of Neptune’s own Sherriff Rosco P. Coltraine and updates on the weather.

 _Cowboy up, Mars._ She smiled, because she could still hear his voice in her head. She opened a new email and began to type.

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Thurs, 14 Apr 2016 02:50
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Can’t sleep
> 
> Dear Logan,
> 
> I know that we just hung up the phone like 3 hours ago, but my dad’s house is too quiet and I couldn’t sleep. After we got disconnected on Sunday I was worried even though you told me not to be when that happens. What if that was the time that something happened to you? Then everything went down with Lianne’s step-kid, and now I can’t stop thinking: what if that was the time that I couldn’t get away? What if that was the last conversation we ever had? My mind just won’t shut up and drowning the silence with Rihanna’s Stay on repeat probably isn’t the best approach. I’m just so thankful that you’re all right.
> 
> I was thinking about what we you said before you left, about how we were going to do this: “Easy, V. Email. Write me. Write me everything.” 
> 
> Yeah. Easy peasy. You know, I can write a 20 page law paper in under 15 hours: BAM! But what you suggested? That’s…harder for me.
> 
> I know we had those two weeks together, and God, they were amazing. (Great, now my body won’t shut up either! Focus, V!) But Logan, it’s been nine years. There’s so much I don’t know about you anymore. There’s so much _you_ don’t know about _me_ anymore. Is your favorite movie still Easy Rider? What kind of music do you listen to now? What the hell did we talk about those last 2 weeks? Fuck, I don’t even know where the flying thing came from. I have so many questions and there was no time to ask them. I have so many stories and explanations for you, I don’t even know where to start. You know sharing has never been my forte. I _have_ changed after nine years but some of those basic truths about me are still in there, as much as I’m trying to overcome them.
> 
> Maybe writing to you will help though. True, meaningful emails, like you’ve been sending me. You certainly can’t argue back, or cut me off mid-sentence with your pithy quotes, or your eyes, or your hands, or your kiss. Reducing all our issues to “bygones” will not make them disappear, as much as every fiber of my being is wishing it would. Maybe the fact that I can take the time to organize my thoughts will help. Or maybe I’ll overthink every sentence and delete each one 10 times before hitting send. What the hell do I know? But I’m going to try, because this will work this time. _WE_ will work this time.
> 
> Be safe! 102 days.
> 
> ~V
> 
>  

> **From:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Date:** Thurs, 15 Apr 2016 06:03
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Can’t sleep
> 
> Dear V,
> 
> I knew you weren’t OK when we hung up. I’m sorry, baby. I wish I could hold you and prove to you that I’m OK. It really is just the crappy connection we have out here. You know I can’t tell you where we are or what we’re doing, but like I said before, we are in a relatively safe zone this trip. I mean it, truly.
> 
> We didn’t do a whole lot of talking those two weeks, Bobcat. Unless you count the _Gods_ , and _Logans_ , and _yeah babies_ , which I’m pretty sure you aren’t. Trust me, my memories of those days play very vividly in my mind. Every kiss, every bite, every blow, every part of your body that I reintroduced myself to. That is what’s keeping me going through these long, lonely nights in my bunk.
> 
> I approve of your plan whole-heartedly. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you falling back to your usual MO. I appreciate your desire to help keep my head in the game over here, but it’s unnecessary. I’d much rather hear about you than the weather in Neptune. It’s 72F. It’s always 72F. I get it.
> 
> I leave you with the immortal words of Nike: _Just Do It_.
> 
> 101 days.
> 
> Always,
> 
> ~L

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Thurs, 15 Apr 2016 08:24
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Re: Can’t sleep
> 
> OK, so I do know what we were doing during those last two weeks. Seriously, out of my whole letter, you went with the rhetorical question? But I really do appreciate the play by play (woof!). ;P
> 
> Stay safe!
> 
> ~V

 

> **From:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Date:** Thurs, 15 Apr 2016 18:12
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** Re: Can’t sleep
> 
> Are we doing animal sexting now? If you’re a dog (you said it, not me!), can I be a stallion? NEIGH!
> 
> My junior year, they were forcing me to declare a major. I was barely passing as it was, missing more classes than I was attending. I won’t lie, V. I was in a bad place. One day, I ran into Wallace. I hadn’t seen him in almost a year, and he wasn’t too impressed by what he saw, I could tell. You should ask him about that meeting. Anyway, for my part, it was enlightening. Wallace and I were never really friends but he was the closest thing to you I’d come in contact with in a long time and I was ashamed of myself. Wallace’s face was looking at me but it was you staring out. I realized that if I let myself sink deeper into the misery, then you were right to leave. And I was still so angry at you that I didn’t want you to be right. So I did everything I could to prove you wrong.
> 
> I went to the career fair going on that week (stop laughing, I can almost hear you from here), and got to talking with the recruiters. They make better pitches than Dick Sr. at one of his investor meetings. I went online and researched a bit, did a few of those career quiz things. Military kept showing up on the lists. I liked the idea of maybe protecting people, but without paying for the damages to the bars. There was structure, which Lord knows I needed, and a built in family. Nothing else had worked until then so I figured, what the hell?
> 
> Then came the tough choice of figuring out which branch. I looked at what I knew about the military, which wasn’t a hell of a lot. I was pretty sure the Marines were too intense, and coming from me, you can imagine how intense that must be. I’d seen Saving Private Ryan and Apocalypse Now. Rolling in the mud and trenches weren’t really my thing either. That left Air Force and Navy. The Navy meant the ocean. My ocean. And based on what I saw of Top Gun, I figured I’d look pretty hot on a motorcycle, in a sexy fighter plane, and shirtless playing volleyball. The Navy won.
> 
> I was right, too. I’m one sexy motherfucker on the volleyball court.
> 
> Always,
> 
> ~L

 

Veronica sat back into her pillows looking at the picture Logan had attached to his email. It was an older picture, clearly taken during his initial training. His face was still a little rounder, but already his shirtless body had taken on the chiseled look she had come to know during their recent time together. He was mid-jump on the beach playing 2 on 2. The dark-skinned guy next to him didn’t have a shirt on either, or the guys on the other team. It was hard to tell what they really looked like behind their stereotypical aviator glasses. Really, though, she wasn’t staring at this pic in order to stare into their eyes. Navy training was certainly good for the body. _My, oh my_.

Veronica closed her light and lay the computer open on the bed next to her, the picture zoomed in on Logan. Her hand disappeared under the sheet as her eyes stared unblinking at the screen.

* * *

Two days later, Veronica walked into her office and sat down at her new desk. When she had told Logan what had happened at Adrian’s apartment, and about the talk she had with her father afterwards when he called her his partner, Logan had enlisted Dick to help arrange everything on this side of the pond. Consequently, this morning a beautiful antique mahogany partners desk had been delivered, Logan’s surprise congratulations gift to them. Even her dad had almost smiled when he read the card. Logan might wear him down yet.

She adjusted his picture in the frame next to her monitor and looked at the desk pad calendar with all the black Xs. Doing the math quickly in her head, she logged in to her email account and started her message.

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Sun, 17 Apr 2016 16:13
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** 99
> 
> Dear Logan,
> 
> You trying to buy my dad’s affection with big expensive gifts now? Seriously though, the desk is just beautiful. I’ve attached a picture so that you can see it. Did you know that Dick had such good taste? I thought he just hired someone but apparently he actually picked it out himself.   Do they teach you rich folk antiquing right out of the womb, or does the skill manifest itself when you hit puberty? As you can see in the picture I’ve got my side all decorated. And lo and behold, my countdown calendar told me that today was a special day. We are officially under the 100-day mark; only 99 more days. Those first 81 days flew by so fast, the last 99 won’t be so bad, right? Right? (That’s a bald-faced lie, btw.)
> 
> Anyway, I’ve spent my Sunday at the office with Mac, organizing case files. “And on the 7th day, the Lord said, let there be filing!” I swear my dad hasn’t filed anything since he moved into this space 3 years ago. But I digress. Well actually, I stall and you know how good my stall tactics are. I could go pro.
> 
> The thing is, I had an idea that I’m a little embarrassed about. I caught Mac on this site called Tumblr, which, according to her is where one goes to connect with others who have similar interests. Between you and me, it’s where she goes to geek out over her computer crap and Dr Who. I can hear you laughing (I miss hearing you laugh). Don’t judge her! (I’m totally judging her enough for both of us.)
> 
> I just happened to glimpse at her screen (aka I was nosy and totally snooping over her shoulder) where I saw her answering these question things. I think she called them a mime? Anyway, some of the questions were kind of stupid and generic, but some were…not…and would have taken me a novella to answer. Even the generic ones were…valid…when I realized that I didn’t know what some of your answers would be anymore, and you had no way of knowing what mine would be either. So then I thought, well, I didn’t know where to start with this sharing thing, so why not use that list of questions as a launching point (get ready bucko, there are 92). Like I said, some of them will require a little courage to answer, and a lot of time, but hell, we have 99 more days of letters.
> 
> Now I’m going to go over here and bury my head in the sand while I get over my mortification at this suggestion. Don’t laugh too hard, Lieutenant. Those pictures I promised you are riding on you not mocking me.
> 
> Stay safe!
> 
> ~V

 

Veronica hit send and then instinctively hovered her mouse over the Undo button, conflicted over whether or not she should call it back.

_What are you doing? You sound like a teenager, Veronica. Aren’t you beyond Cosmo quizzes about what his favorite color means and if the fact that you both have lemon chicken in common means you’re going to be together forever?_

Suddenly, her Inbox updated with a new message. Logan must have been checking his email when she sent hers. Her stomach flipped as she realized that he read her message and responded already. 

_Fantastic! Way to look like you’ve matured. I’m truly going to go die now._

 

> **From:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Date:** Sun, 17 Apr 2016 16:19
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:99
> 
> Dear Veronica,
> 
> Meme, sweetheart. It’s called a meme. Where the hell have you been the last few years that you’ve fallen into such a cultural black hole? Law school did nothing to enhance your pop culture queen status in the least. I will have you know that yours truly has his own Tumblr account under the name Yoda69. Fast cars, fast planes, fantasy football and the latest in surfing news all in one easy dashboard. You really need to get in touch with your inner fan girl, Veronica. Go on and check if the URL Bobcat is taken. ;P
> 
> Did I even tell you that my call sign was Yoda? My wingman, his name is Justin Walker, goes by Mace (yes, as in Windhu). The story is a little embarrassing, but you don’t get a call sign without an embarrassing story. It keeps us humble.
> 
> Not long after I started flight training, I was paired with Mace. They pair you early, so you can bond and train together, you know, to really get to know each other. It sounds corny, but it’s a formula that works. Mace is not only my right arm in the sky, my second pair of eyes, but he is family now. I can’t wait for you to meet him.
> 
> Anyway, we were bored one night in our bunks, too keyed up to sleep after a fly-day, and we started this conversation about Star Wars. The other guys were listening to us ramble about these obscure facts and laughing their asses off at us. You think Mac is a geek? If only you could have heard us, you’d see she’s just an amateur. And you thought Easy Rider was my favorite movie. I was just too cool in those days to let you see my glow-in-the-dark Jedi sheets. 
> 
> Later that week, I was recording my inspirational greeting and was overheard. The guys started calling me Yoda, and I guess Mace just fit for Justin, although he wishes he was as smooth as Sam Jackson. Can’t say that I mind it. There are worse things to be called. Remind me one day to tell you how Bubbles got his name.
> 
> “Named must your fear be before banish it you can.” – Yoda
> 
> If a meme gets you talking, Veronica, then I’m all for it. I’ve been patiently waiting for your story for 81 days. Bring it.
> 
> I’m flying tomorrow, so I’m not sure when I’ll be able to check back in. Expect at least 3, maybe even 5 days. It should give you enough time to rewrite your first set of answers at least a few times. J Good luck! And I’m glad you like the desk. Operation “Win Keith Over” has begun!
> 
> May the force be with you.
> 
> Always,
> 
> ~L

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing in the VM universe, except my undying gratitude to RB, KB and JD.

** Chapter 2 **

 

Veronica wiped her eyes and took a few steadying breaths. When she had calmed down enough, she opened her browser window and loaded up Tumblr. What she found there made the giggles that she was just barely holding in come pouring out of her once again. On her screen she was looking at a header of Logan’s body in his flight suit standing on the wing of his Growler, but Yoda’s head was superimposed on it wearing aviator glasses. Unable to hold it in anymore, Veronica spent the next few minutes roaring with laughter. Mac stuck her head through the door, a smirk on her face.

“Care to share? “

Veronica sobered quickly. To share meant to explain how she got there, and about the meme, and she wasn’t ready to go there with Mac just yet. She was still a little humiliated by the idea.

“Depends. Do you want to see a picture of Logan’s naughty bits with his aviators perched on them? No? But why ever not?”

Mac closed her eyes and shook her head to dislodge the image, then quickly escaped back out the door.

_Point Veronica._

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Wed, 20 Apr 2016 23:39
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Survey says…
> 
> Dear Logan,
> 
> Meme, mime, whatevs. I totally don’t know how to process the information that you know what that means, or that you are also on Tumblr. WHAT?!? Yoda69? Really? I’ve seriously been laughing non-stop since reading your email. Best ab workout ever.
> 
> Thank you for being so supportive of my stupid idea. I agree with you - anything that gets the words out can only help. It just makes me feel like such a teenager again. God I hope this will get easier. I want it to be effortless with you but that takes practice, so I’m starting with the simple ones, like a warm up. Let’s go with a beverage theme:
> 
> **8\. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted?**
> 
> I’ve seen enough to answer this with a definitive yes. Not a fan of boys getting really wasted either. (I’ve had to deal enough times with your and Lilly’s drunken debauchery to have an informed opinion on the subject.) Having said that, in the last nine years I may have relaxed my stance on drinking a little bit. I still never drink anything I haven’t watched being prepared; some lessons cannot be unlearned. However, I have been known to imbibe a little too much now and again. Your skepticism is noted, but it’s true. 
> 
> I remember this one time in NYC, we had just turned in our first law school paper and a bunch of us went out to celebrate. Jeannie started a game of beer pong, and I couldn’t help but think about all those Pi Sig parties you dragged me too. I had never been so grateful to Dick before in my life, and I wiped the floor with those guys! (Don’t you dare tell Dick on threat of pain from my taser.) We all got so drunk, man, I barely remember getting home. I think Rob wet himself on Sara’s front stoop because she couldn’t get the door open fast enough. We were really obnoxious. The next day we had a 9am class and we were all so hung over, a bunch of us showed up with shades on and two liter cups of coffee. The professor was justifiably unimpressed with us so he sent us home in disgust and tacked on a couple of extra pages to our assignment for good measure. It was months before we set foot in a bar again. Well, weeks anyway. Days really.
> 
> **10\. What is the last beverage you had?**
> 
> **19\. Have you had a soft drink today?**
> 
> I chose a beer over the Diet Pepsi. I went for a drink after work with Mac and Wallace at that pub on Lavendar Ave that you hated. How you prefer the overpriced drinks at the 09er I’ll never understand. Not that they’d let me in without you anyway. (I’m not sad about that. Wallace might be, but now that I’m back, I can fix Wallace of all those pesky rich-boy fantasies of his.) Thank goodness the spring beakers are gone. There’s no way to escape them while they’re here, and we were due for an evening out.
> 
> **33\. Are you one of those people who never drinks water?**
> 
> Nope. Hydrate, hydrate, hydrate! This might be TMI (that’s the point, no?), but during law school I was drinking so much coffee and soda and next to no water. I was trying to stay awake on 3-4 hours of sleep most nights, and caffeine was my friend.
> 
> Law school was hard. I’ve always been a good student but there were a few professors that I genuinely thought were going to kill me. I have never worked so hard in my life. What a waste of time and money, but I really…I don’t want it. God that was hard to type. You have no way of knowing, but it took a full eight minutes to type those words. I know you understand that “corporate lawyer chick” is not me. I think you’re the only one who does, frankly, and until recently, I included myself in that assessment. The truth is that I didn’t know what to do with myself after Stanford. I took a year to travel a bit. Dad came into some money from a missing person’s case and sent me to Europe on a backpacking extravaganza. I extended it by waitressing, sleeping on beaches, you know, roughing it. Or maybe you wouldn’t know, huh? Have you even slept anywhere that wasn’t five stars and didn’t have a concierge on speed dial? ;P
> 
> Anyway, when I got back, I figured law school was a good option. I couldn’t get on the wrong side of the law there, which means I couldn’t fuck up anyone’s life again by doing something borderline illegal, right? So Columbia accepted me, and it was essentially what I thought it would be. I convinced myself that it was a good fit, but really, now that I’m out of it, I can admit that it was just something that kept my mind busy so I didn’t have to think about how bored it all made me.
> 
> How the hell did I get here from a question about water? Oh yeah, too much coffee. Anyway, I developed a serious UTI and the doctor told me drinking more water would help. I realized I had pretty much cut it out of my habits, and restarted. I think I must be up to about six bottles a day, at least. Seeing that, I really need to get a reusable bottle. Those landfills must be overflowing!
> 
> **80\. Hot tea or cold tea?**
> 
> **81\. Tea or coffee?**
> 
> No tea but my coffee habit, as I already said above, has evolved into its own Olympic sport. Still black with 1 sugar, as you know, but I am a total coffee snob now. Working at Java taught me how to make a mean cuppa joe, and I would literally walk blocks out of my way on the Stanford campus so I could go to this little hole in the wall café that made the best coffee I have ever had.
> 
> I hated working at Java. How could I have ever thought that working a normal job like that would be something I would want? There are so many memories associated with that place that are tinged with regrets. I’m so sorry Logan, so unbelievably sorry. I should have known what Duncan was doing. Oh hell, I _knew_ what he was doing, I just…sigh.
> 
> It’s been a decade and I can’t believe these memories and feelings are still such a huge part of my psyche. But that’s what these letters are supposed to do, right? Purge us of all our crap? Vomiting up the hard things so they stop bubbling in the pits of our soul? (Where the hell am I getting this garbage? I’m not going to erase it though. Hopefully my dramatics are making you smile and laugh at me over there.) OK here goes. Brace yourself Echolls, because I’m pulling out my Psych degree over here.
> 
> When we had that conversation that summer in my living room, I didn’t want to break up with you, I only wanted you to stop. (This is not a hint for an apology. I do not want another one. Your epic speech covered that already, so don’t you dare write me another one!) But then you exploded and I couldn’t explain what I meant, and I’m not sure you would have heard me anyway. And frankly, you scared me. Not the explosion with the lamp. I know you think that’s what it was, but you know I never thought you were like your father. You would never have hurt me. No, I was terrified of you telling me you loved me. You used me like a life jacket, drowning me in your eyes, and I was absolutely terrified by that. I…cared so much, Logan. But the world was upside down, crazy, Alice in Wonderland, and I was 17 and mistrustful and…I couldn’t deal (that’s proper psychological terminology right there). I…grudgingly… came to understand how you couldn’t stop, though. I was never willing to stop before the revenge was completely dished out either.
> 
> Next thing I know, Duncan was there, and he represented my old life, the easier life. Lilly’s stuff was over, and I wanted so badly for normal, not realizing that I could never have that again. And…if he and I loved each other again, and slept together again, then that first time would have been OK. But Logan, it wasn’t OK. I know that now. He raped me Logan. God, he had sex with me while he thought I was his sister, not to mention unconscious, and I couldn’t do anything to make that acceptable, as much as I wanted it to be. It took me a lot of years, a psych degree and some counseling to be able to admit that.
> 
> So yes, as much as it makes me nauseous to say, as much as I know these words are going to hurt you to read, I have to admit that I did choose Duncan over you then. I also know that somewhere deep down you still think that if he came back today, I would choose him again. (At least, I’m pretty sure you believed it 10 years ago).
> 
> Now here’s what you don’t know. Remember that time you mentioned Kendall coming out of his room, just before he disappeared? At the time, I made it seem like I didn’t believe that it happened, but you didn’t hear the fight we had later that night. I knew you were telling the truth, Logan. And I was ashamed that both of you felt like you had to turn to her for sex. For a long time after that I thought I wasn’t…good enough at the sex to keep you happy (enter the Madison issues, but let’s leave that for another time). But we had already started to plan his leaving, and it was easier if we just maintained the illusion another week. It was the longest week of my life, because I realized that he was never what I actually wanted, and what I was trying to do, to recapture, was not working. He asked me to go with him, and I felt only relief that I could say no and send him on his way. 
> 
> Duncan could show up on my doorstep today and the only thing I would be interested in hearing from his mouth is how Baby Lilly is faring. I have no desire for anything else from him.
> 
> I do have one good memory from Java, though. A prophecy, if you will. I remember working a shift one day just as it was all going to hell for you and Hannah. I made some comment to Wallace that if true love came along, to tell it that I was near the coffee machine. I turned the corner, and there you were, standing next to the cappuccino maker. Admit it, I’m psychic. Think I’d put Dionne Warwick out of work?
> 
> I choose you, Logan. I choose you now, I should have chosen you then, and I will continue to choose you for as long as you are willing to put up with my seriously over-packed baggage. Maybe I’ll let you buy me some Louie Vuitton to at least class it up a bit.
> 
> Stay safe! 96 days.
> 
> ~V

 

> **From:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Date:** Fri, 22 Apr 2016 06:44
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Survey says…
> 
> Dear Veronica, 
> 
> I’m sorry that it took so long to get back to you. I had hoped to be back yesterday, but it wasn’t meant to be. I’m glad I warned you that it could run long. I know how I felt when you were off doing something dangerous and I couldn’t reach you. But I’m back safe and sound.
> 
> I have to admit that when you suggested this meme idea, I wasn’t expecting the floodgates to open as they did. I feel like I’m at the bottom of Niagara Falls. Didn’t you say you were starting with the easy ones? If these are the easy issues, I shudder to think of what’s to come.
> 
> First, let me start by saying that since that kiss at the Camelot, it’s always been you. It will always _be_ you. I will buy you every Louie Vuitton bag in the store, and every Gucci and every Chanel if you need it. We both have baggage, sweetheart. It’s just time to sort through it all and start doing the laundry.
> 
> Honestly, I’m not sure what to start replying to first. Let me start with the easy stuff. First, I am trying to figure out the best way to arrange another game of beer pong. I can’t even imagine you playing, let alone winning. I’ll have to get Dick to throw a party when I’m home.
> 
> Next, I just sent Dick and Wallace an email asking Dick to put Wallace (and you and Mac) on the permanent VIP list at the 09er. There will also be a bar tab open in your names. Enjoy. Maybe now that Operation “Win Keith Over” is off to a good start, I can focus a bit on Operation “Get Wallace To Like Me.”
> 
> I’m sorry that law school didn’t end up working for you. I’m sad to think of all the stress and work you put yourself through for no reward but a 100K$ debt. I know better than to offer to pay it off, but it is something we will need to discuss. The whole money issue is something we will need to discuss eventually. Just so you know, when I decided to join the Navy, I made the decision to try and live off my salary as much as possible. I won’t lie; I do use some of my inheritance for big purchases. I have a small beach house not far from the base, about 45 minutes outside of Neptune. There’s my car and my investment in the 09er. However, the beach house isn’t even as big as Dick’s, and I bought it at a scale so that my salary could cover my living expenses. I don’t want to be that spoiled rich boy anymore. I’m just your average, responsible rich boy now.
> 
> I can’t be sorry that you came home and chose the PI life again, though. It would be pretty hypocritical of me considering my call for help was what got you back here to begin with. I see what the thrill of the case does to you (and it’s sexy as hell!). You know I’m not in love with the risks you take and the danger that finds you. I never was. However, I also know that you can take care of yourself. I choose to believe that you know when you need extra muscle and will ask for it. (I’m deluding myself into believing this. Let me have my illusions please). I will try and be understanding and patient, but I can’t promise that I won’t freak out sometimes.
> 
> I will say this, though. This will be the only time I will bring this up (hopefully, but I know my temper, so probably not), so please try not to take this as some kind of _I told you so_. I am a fighter pilot in the Navy. I have and will again participate in dangerous missions where my life is literally on the line for our country. I have had a few close calls, and will probably have others in the future. It comes with the job that I chose, a job that I love. After the first few, I came to understand how you could put yourself at risk all those times. How you were able to block out that there were people frantically wishing for your safety and who would be devastated if you got hurt or worse.
> 
> The need to help someone, find the bad guy, make sure that they don’t get away with it anymore. I get it now. But I hope that you now also understand what it feels like to be on the other side. I can hear you saying that you always knew, that your dad was always at risk. While that’s true, I think you half believe that you have some measure of control in protecting him. But you have absolutely no control over any of the danger I’m in. You can only wait and watch, as I waited and watched, for the phone to ring to tell you that I’m safe again. You know (I think) the nauseous feeling that you are desperately trying to keep at bay. Distracting yourself any way you can so that you are not sitting there staring at the phone, willing it to ring with news. I hope that when you make a decision that could lead to some situation where you could get hurt, you think of me, over here, waiting for the message in the inbox, telling me that you are safe. Like I said, this isn’t meant to be an _I told you_ _so_ , but it is a little. I’ll try not to say it again, though (until the next time ;P).
> 
> I know that you don’t want another apology for that summer, but you also know me well enough to know that I’m going to give it to you anyway. I’m so sorry. I was an angry, stupid, scared kid who didn’t know his ass from his elbow. I only learned by example that love and anger were intrinsically connected somehow, and I didn’t know how I could give up being angry in order to love you. It took me a lot of years and a lot of training to get my anger under control, to be able to separate it from loving someone.
> 
> I don’t really know how to react to what you said about Duncan. Frankly, it makes me want to retch. I will admit that it took me 45 minutes and a punching bag after I read your email to get myself calm enough to be able to answer. First, let me say that in retrospect I can see what you were trying to do. I was trying the same thing by allowing him to be my friend again. It backfired for me too, clearly. 
> 
> I wish I could erase all those awful memories from your head. Please know that my being with Kendall had absolutely nothing to do with our physical relationship. It had everything to do with trying to fuck away the pain and the ache of not being with you. I’m not sure that helps, but it’s the truth. Duncan’s motivations were a mystery; he never told me. All I know is that he is a colossal asshole for doing that to you. I’m glad your rose-colored glasses are gone, and that you now see him and his actions for what they were. It hurt me that you couldn’t see it then, but I’m not worried about that anymore. I’m damn proud that I’m the one that actually turned out to be the All American Golden Boy. Well, on even-numbered days at least.
> 
> I’m glad he’s out of our lives. Good riddance to bad rubbish.
> 
> True love by the coffee machine? I thought the way to your heart was through your stomach. Shouldn’t I have been by the pastries?
> 
> 94 days
> 
> Always,
> 
> ~L

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Fri, 22 Apr 2016 19:10
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Survey says…
> 
> One day. One day you will listen when I tell you that you have to stop apologizing. But I guess if you need to listen to me spew my crap, I can also listen to you spew yours. Now that we’ve dealt with that, we never have to do it again. Deal? Deal.
> 
> Now, two counterpoints.
> 
> First, I will let you get away with that _I told you so_ just this once, mister. Enjoy it while you can; I hope it felt good. To be honest, about one week after you left I may or may not admit to spiraling into a panic attack thinking of everything that could be happening to you. Trust me when I tell you that I got it. But just like you can’t promise me that you won’t freak out sometimes, I can’t promise you that I won’t ever be in danger again. I can promise to evaluate a situation from your point of view now, though, before I run off half-cocked. The trouble with real life is that it has no danger music. It would be so helpful if it did. 
> 
> Second, the money is an issue. I’m not sure how to not make it an issue. I’m also not naïve. I understand that any future we have involves me having access to large sums of money. Colour me impressed by your “modest” living, though. You know my feelings about abusing money well enough, but the fact that you seem to be treating your wealth so responsibly is encouraging. I’m not after you for your money; I know that you know that. I’ve also matured enough now not to care that everyone here will think that I am.
> 
> I’ve thought a lot about why I’m having such a hard time with the money issue. I never really did when Lilly was alive. I guess that in my head, the people who made my high school experience less than stellar were all 09ers. Every single one. I fought very hard to break myself of that link after everything that happened and to live my life using any of your money feels like I’m agreeing to return to the fold. It’s like I’m giving in, saying that they were right. Intellectually I see it for the crap that it is, but it’s hard to let go emotionally.
> 
> When it becomes necessary, let’s sit down with your financial people and figure it out. Maybe our two financial brackets can meet somewhere in the middle. As long as I get a pony out of the deal. 
> 
> Stay safe!
> 
> ~V
> 
> P.S. I think you forgot to answer the questions. I’m still waiting over here…

 

> **From:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Date:** Sat, 23 Apr 2016 11:09
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Survey says… 
> 
> Dear Veronica,
> 
> I’ve finally got enough downtime to answer the initial set of questions. I wasn’t ignoring them, I just wanted to make sure to make sure your stuff got addressed before bringing anything else into the discussion. I can’t guarantee I always have time to answer these, but here are mine for now. I saved the heaviest answer for last.
> 
> **10\. What is the last beverage you had?**
> 
> I had a big glass of milk. It does a body good. Calcium helps build strong teeth and bones, you know.
> 
> **19\. Have you had a soft drink today?**
> 
> Would you believe our tin can ran out? Not sure whose head it going to roll over that one, but there isn’t a soda to be found on board.
> 
> **33\. Are you one of those people who never drinks water?**
> 
> If I didn’t drink water in this climate, I would be dead. With this heat, I lose 5 pounds a day just in water.
> 
> **80\. Hot tea or cold tea?**
> 
> Like you, no tea.
> 
> **81\. Tea or coffee?**
> 
> It’s too hot here to drink coffee. Soda was our caffeine alternative, that’s why we’re all out.
> 
> **8\. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted?**
> 
> Getting clean and staying clean forced me to re-evaluate how I saw others who chose to party it up around me. I can’t look at them quite the same way that I used to, like I was looking for a kindred spirit among the broken.
> 
> My first time out to sea, we weren’t gone too long, only a few weeks on a training exercise. I got in the habit of finding a quiet corner on deck at least once a day if I could and I taught myself to meditate. It took forever for me to be able to quiet my mind and my body. In order to accomplish this, I had to look deep inside myself and face a few of those demons that kept threatening to overwhelm me. One of those was how I treated you after Lilly died but particularly at Shelley’s party. I could barely live with myself when I started dredging it all up again. I honestly don’t understand myself then and how I could have let that all happen. I haven’t touch tequila since dealing with it all. Remember once I told you how pears make me gag? You can add tequila to the list.
> 
> Now, I’m not so much disgusted when girls get really wasted as I try and make sure that they have someone to watch over them properly. It’s the only way I feel like I can make up even a little bit for what happened.
> 
> 93 days.
> 
> Always,
> 
> ~L

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Sat, 23 Apr 2016 16:27
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Survey says…
> 
> I sold all the tequila I had and used the money to buy you a cow. If that’s what milk does to your body, we’re buying a dairy with your fortune.
> 
> Stay safe!
> 
> ~V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who left comments and kudos. I now understand the addiction. Your encouragement means so much. Thanks, as always, to my wonderful beta, @ELSchaaf, and also to @lilamadison11, who made me realize that people were also interested in Logan's answers to the meme. I'm not sure I'll have him answer every single one, but I will try to work something out. Note that the last 2 emails are unbeta'd. I wanted to post quickly and didn't take the time to send them. Feedback is appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I owned these characters, but alas, they belong to Rob Thomas.

_Ow! Shit!_

The scalding hot coffee burned Veronica’s tongue.

She was already on edge, and blisters on her tongue did nothing to improve her mood. She had agreed to meet her mom – _Lianne!_ – for a trip to the park with Hunter, and her flight instinct was on high alert. The only thing that held her to her seat was the memory of Hunter sitting on the sofa in the office, small and scared. She remembered what that felt like, watching your family self-destruct around you and not being able to do a damn thing about it.

 _Life -_ _it's nothing like the brochure!_

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Thurs, 28 Apr 2016 18:06
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Eye of the Tiger
> 
> Dear Logan,
> 
> I’m sitting in Starbucks waiting for Lianne. She has to stay in town while the Keystone Cops finish their investigation to make sure that she had nothing to do with Tanner’s con. She called me yesterday asking if I would take the opportunity of her still being here to get to know Hunter. He’s apparently been asking about me. I’m not sure how to...
> 
>  …and now a message from your emergency broadcasting system. We pause our regularly scheduled email so that I can go and save that girl who just walked in from the creepy guy she’s clearly trying to get rid of. I think she was in my first year psych class at Hearst. BRB.
> 
> …
> 
>  Fucking SOB! First of all, I’m OK. Take this as a measure of my openness and honesty that I don’t go back and delete the last paragraph despite what just happened. Today just keeps getting better and better. Funny how there are meme questions covering this. And just when I was trying to decide which ones to answer anyway.
> 
> **1\. How many bruises on you right now?**
> 
> Looks like it’s gonna be one big one on the small of my back. Asshole shoved me. Good thing Deputy Norris walked in to get a coffee and saw it happen. I hope the asshole slips on the community soap. Seems like he was pushing just a little too hard to get noticed by that girl, and she was trying to get rid of him. She bought me a tiramisu as a thank you, so my fury has subsided.
> 
> **7\. What happened tonight?**
> 
> Besides the mook I just gave a good tongue lashing to? Mac had a date. No idea who it is, and not even my patented head tilt and interrogation techniques could get it out of her. There was a time where I would have followed her with my telephoto lens just to figure it out. I think it’s a testament to my growth and maturity that I didn’t. Are you impressed? (Admit it, you are!)
> 
> I’m happy for her. Wallace too, who apparently started dating the new cheerleading coach at school. But it makes me miss you all the more. So, instead of wallowing at home alone or bringing down my dad’s mojo at the hospital (I think he’s trying to get a date with the evening nurse, and I’m apparently cramping his style. Makes me gag just thinking about it), I decided to come and write you at the café while waiting for Lianne.
> 
> I’m not even sure how to refer to her. Just above, I typed _my mom_ , erased it, typed _Lianne_ , and erased that 4-5 times before just giving up. Then I decided that she forfeited any right to the mom title when she left with my college money and Duncan’s reward cheque. I was ready to let it all go 2 weeks ago, but that was easier to do when I didn’t think I’d actually have to see her again so soon.
> 
> **18\. The last time you felt broken?**
> 
> The obvious answer is the night of my dad’s accident, and while it’s true I was frantic and panicked, I’m going to go with something else. The answer is the millisecond before the phone rang when you called asking for my help, only I didn’t know it at the time.
> 
> I was very broken when I left Neptune, Logan, and it took me a long time to put myself back together again. I tried to leave behind my trust issues and my penchant for running and for the most part, I did. It was nice to take a breather and just fade into the crowd, another anonymous face. I know that you of all people would understand the value in that. When Stanford was done, the psych degree gave me so much perspective on my life and my issues, and I sat for many days on that beach in Greece trying to decide if I should come home. I wanted to, you know. I missed my dad, Mac and Wallace. I missed you most of all, really, because we weren’t in contact even, but as I sat there… I don’t know. It had been almost five years by that point. Mac had texted me that you had enlisted, and after I picked my chin up off the sand, I realized that I couldn’t just come back like nothing had happened. You had moved on, Mac was moving to Silicon Valley for a job, Wallace was going to coach in Chicago, and my dad…would have been so disappointed in me. I couldn’t do that to him. The guilt I carried over the lost election was still raw for me (even five years later), so I took his suggestion of law school and went with it.
> 
> NYC, Piz, law school, those pieces got shoved onto my newly put together façade, covering some of the holes, true, but also overlaying some really important parts, hiding them. I love New York, don’t get me wrong. Just not the way I was living in it, like some winter-loving, cynical, charcoal grey suited, straight-haired, hardass bitch. Yes, I know, at ease with the raised eyebrows, Lieutenant. I’m a cynical hardass bitch all right, but the rest? Not so much. When you called, it was like hidden pieces of myself woke up, stretched and were ready to come out of hiding. I think even Piz knew, as I was packing. He kept looking at me funny, like he didn’t know who was standing in front of him.
> 
> Truly, he didn’t.
> 
> I don’t know if you remember, but when you said goodbye to me that first night after the karaoke bar, you were terrified, and you kissed me on the forehead as you left. I felt like all the pieces that didn’t fit right were shaken loose with that one little kiss. I obviously couldn’t leave you like that but also, I knew that I could do something about it. I was so absolutely sure that I could help you, and it felt so liberating to feel like I could use all those skills again. Granted it took me a while to admit it to myself, but once I did…not even knowing that I would see the disappointment in my dad’s eyes was going to make me bury it again. Everyone thinks I’m staying here for you, but it’s not about that. At least, it’s not only about that (stuff that ego right back into your pocket, mister). It’s that I want to be _here_ , doing _this_. I feel whole again.
> 
> **24\. What do you want right this second?**
> 
> Your arms around me. Your skin touching mine. Your lips on my neck. The smell of sex on the sheets. You making me breakfast. Me ordering us supper. You screaming my name as you come. Feeling myself lose control not to my memories of you, but to you actually inside me. Hearing you laugh. Your eyes looking at me as only you do. I want you home.
> 
> Stay safe! 88 days.
> 
> ~V

 

> **From:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Date:** Sat, 30 Apr 2016 11:57
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Eye of the Tiger
> 
> I have to worry about you when you’re just getting coffee now? You are knocking several years off of my life expectancy, here, Mars. Please, for the love of all that is holy, promise me you’ll stay in your room for the next 86 days. That’s my answer for **24\. What do you want right this second?** I will get Dick to provide everything you need. Just stay away from…everything. For me.
> 
> Ah well, I had to try. At least remember this bit of advice we learned in training: if the enemy is in range, so are you.
> 
> So how did it go with Lianne and Hunter? I completely understand you not wanting to see her. Just remember that Hunter is innocent of everything your mom did all those years ago. I’m not sure how you feel about him, but knowing your only-child tendencies and the fact that you don’t like to share your people (or your food, or anything, to be honest), I can only imagine how well the discovery that you have a brother must have gone over. If nothing else, try for Hunter. You might remember that I have some experience with the long lost brother syndrome. Charlie and I exchange emails now and again, but blowing up the relationship before it could start did me no favours in the long run. Think really hard about what you want. Whatever you decide, I’m here to support you.
> 
> I’m trying to figure out where I was when you were having your existential crisis in Greece. I’m not sure why you seem to have had an extra year at Stanford, but best I can figure it, I was just ending my second (and last) year of flight school. I was trying to decide what kind of plane I wanted to fly. I admit that choosing the Growlers meant a higher likelihood of getting stationed in San Diego. I guess even then I kept hoping that you would come back, and I hesitated to stray too far from home. Ironic that you seem to have found out about my career choice and it lead you to stay away. Not sure how to take that piece of information.
> 
> I wonder sometimes what would have happened if you came home, or if I tried to follow you. I wouldn’t change how we are now for anything, and I know that we needed those nine years to get us here, but I feel like there’s been so much time wasted. I want all your years to have been with me even though I know that makes me selfish.
> 
> I’m maudlin now, so I’m going to sign off before you hurt yourself rolling your eyes at me through the computer. I’ll reread your last answer to myself a few times to make myself feel better. 
> 
> Always,
> 
> ~L

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Tue, 3 May 2016 10:44
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Mommy dearest
> 
> Possessive??? Me?? Nah, I was just sick the day they discussed sharing in Kindergarten. Honestly, I hadn’t thought about Charlie. I guess you do know a bit about long lost siblings. You’re right, of course. None of this is Hunter’s fault, and I’m really going to try to figure out this sister thing.
> 
> I’m kind of looking forward to getting to know him, I think. It’s no secret that I’m not the biggest fan of kids. It’s not that I hate them or anything; it’s more like I’m not sure what to do with them. But Hunter is pretty awesome. Won’t stop talking once he gets started. We took him to the park that evening; it was nice.
> 
> Logan, I’m not sure what to make of my mother, but she looks utterly exhausted by this whole thing. I feel bad for her, obviously, but there’s just something that I can’t put my finger on. I’m not sure what her support system is in Tucson. I’m scared for her. I told her that I wanted to see Hunter as much as I can while they’re here. I picked him up yesterday for a few hours to give her a break, and I’m supposed to take him to dinner tonight, too.
> 
> I hope you’ve lifted yourself out of your bad mood. I didn’t mean to upset you. Am I reading your email subtext right, here? Are you upset because you think that I stayed away because you’re in the Navy? My point was not that I didn’t come back because you joined the Navy, or I didn’t approve, or whatever story your little devil on your shoulder is feeding you. It was that you got your shit together and I didn’t want to come back as though you were waiting for me and blow it all up again. I wish we hadn’t lost those nine years either, but I don’t think we would make it this time otherwise.
> 
> Here’s a nugget of info that you seemed to be missing to distract you. That extra year at Stanford you can’t figure out? I lost a semester when I changed majors, and then did an extra semester to do an honours project to bring up my GPA to graduate summa cum laude. 
> 
> Have I told you lately that I like it when you make me summa cum laude? ;)
> 
> Be safe! 83 days.
> 
> ~V

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all who left comments and kudos, please know that I appreciate them so, so much. I started this on a lark, and I'm so glad that some people out there are enjoying it. As always, thanks to the wonderful @ELSchaaf who took time she didn't have to review this chapter for your reading pleasure.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Veronica and company belong to Rob Thomas, not to me.
> 
> I get a little smutty in this one. Seeing as this is my first fic, it's also my first smut. Be patient with me.

It had been a long, restless night, and Veronica rose to the disconcerting feeling of having a cloudy brain and a body that was more than just a little turned on. She must have woken up 3-4 times, and with each waking, a different image of Logan was behind her eyelids, none of which would be considered “safe for work”. She wondered briefly how he was handling all of this, and then realized with a blush that she had a pretty good idea.

She thought of the picture of Logan playing volleyball, and some of his not so subtle pleas to return the favour. She sat up a little higher in her bed and pulled her laptop onto her knees. 

_How do I even do this?_

Deciding to start slowly and work her way up to the difficult part, Veronica began to type.

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Fri, 6 May 2016 08:34
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Curly-Q
> 
> Dear Logan,
> 
> I have to say that even though it was my idea to do this meme thing, I was reluctant to believe that it would actually work. (I know. You’re shocked at my skepticism!) I wasn’t sure I’d be able to let out…anything, to be honest. Truth be told, I’m kinda proud of myself and us. Still, it seems like we should try and get some of the easier questions out of the way, so I figured I’d pick some of the more random ones and answer as many as I could before I have to go in to the office today. Here we go.
> 
> **3\. Have you stayed in a hospital?**
> 
> You would think that after everything that’s happened to me, one of those events would have landed me a hospital stay. But as you know, I am Teflon. I have stayed in a hospital once though, before you moved to Neptune. I must have been about 10 years old and got myself a case of appendicitis. It was so boring. Lilly was banned from my room because she made me laugh so hard I burst a couple of the stitches, but you know Lil. She waited until her parents were out for the afternoon then got the driver to bring her over. She snuck in with ice cream and kept me entertained with these wild stories of what Middle School was like and all the cute boys. The nurses were less than impressed when they found her.
> 
> **22\. Would you ever want to swim with sharks?**
> 
> After that stunt you pulled in 8th grade? No thanks buddy. You know I had nightmares for a week after you played that joke on me. Waste of a perfectly good surfboard. Jackass.
> 
> **35\. Do you ever write in pencil anymore?**
> 
> What am I, five?
> 
> **50\. Ever used a bow and arrow?**
> 
> When I said these were random questions this morning, I really meant it. Yes, I have used a bow and arrow. I was staying in a hostel in England near Sherwood Forest. I’d met some people who were going to this cheesy Robin Hood tourist trap, and I decided it was worth the laugh and the story. I was wrong. Even ironically it wasn’t worth the 40 pounds it cost me. You can imagine what I must have looked like using a longbow. Needless to say, I missed the target.
> 
> **51\. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer?**
> 
> Not sure if my passport picture counts, so never. No wait! My parents did the family Christmas photo thing at Sears one year. *shudder*
> 
> **56\. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?**
> 
> Pony rider.
> 
> **64\. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart?**
> 
> Always Tar-jay.
> 
> And finally, the climax of this set of questions ;) (you’re welcome. I miss you):
> 
> **71\. Can you curl your tongue?**

Veronica pauses and stares at the screen.

_Would you rather it be to some random magazine photo? C’mon Veronica, you can do this._

_Fine. I am woman. Here me roar!_

With a look of resolve, Veronica begins typing again.

 

> I curl my tongue around your full, throbbing erection and start

 

She closes her eyes briefly, shakes her head and violently pounds the delete key. Biting her bottom lip in determination, she starts again.

 

> Does it count if it’s around your cock? Mmmm…now I can’t get the thought of the taste of you out of my mind. I love the feel of you in my mouth, Lo. Even rock hard you have skin like velvet. Can you picture me with you in my mouth? All the way down to the base, with my hands gripping you, following my lips as they slide along you. I’m slowly dragging my mouth up your length to the very top. My tongue darts out and licks the tip ever so lightly. And back down. Again and again. Agonizingly deliberate, and then faster, rougher. My eyes are on yours. I know you love that. Gets you even hotter, doesn’t it, when I watch you with your dick in my mouth? Oh fuck, Logan, thank God I’m alone in my room so that I can touch myself while I think about doing this to you. I know you must be touching yourself, too, making yourself slick like it’s coming from my tongue curling around you. Pumping yourself hard. My fingers are so wet, inside me. Pumping, pumping. Harder, faster, wetter. My mouth sucking and swirling. My hands are all over you, gripping your ass, trying to push you deeper, down my throat. Sooooo good...I want to taste when you come.  Your balls tense in my hand as I squeeze just the right way.  You know what I'm talking about.  I'm so fucking close.  Are you?  Come with me.  1...2...3...FUUUUUUUUUUUCK...LOOOOOOOOOGAAAAAN...
> 
> Oh my.
> 
> That was delicious. ;P
> 
> What do you think? Should this become a regular occurrence? I’m a genius. I told you this was working. It even got me to have email sex. Now I need to go shower again.
> 
> 80 days.
> 
> Stay safe!
> 
> ~V

 

Veronica reluctantly hit send on her email, unsure how Logan would react to that last part. She replayed the scene in her mind, sure she didn’t do it justice textually but a little proud of herself for trying. A warmth develops in her belly as the scene starts again like a song on repeat.

_I guess I do need that shower again after all._

 

> **From:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Date:** Fri, 6 May 2016 09:06
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Curly-Q
> 
> I’m alone in my bunk. I lick my palm and wrap it around myself, slowly dragging it up and down, lazily, as I bring your image to mind. I see you lying there in bed, as I have so many times before. I’m watching you touch yourself, your cheeks a beautiful pink. I know that blush is not just your body’s reaction to how you’re working yourself, but also shyness because you know I’m watching you. I see you touching your nipples, tugging them, quickly licking your thumb and swirling it around, the slight coolness making them pebble. Your other hand is circling your clit, dripping already with need for me. You’re staring straight at me, Veronica. Look at me, kneeling in front of you, one hand on my cock, tugging more and more quickly and the other on my balls, massaging softly. Your hand, my hand, both going faster and faster. My eyes never leave you, but I don’t know where to look: your eyes as they fuck me too, your hand on your tits or the one now pumping with wild abandon. I take it all in until it’s too much, and as soon as I see you arch, my name on your lips, I let go, calling for you. Veronica!!!
> 
> Thank you for that gift, Bobcat. It was unexpected, but all the more welcome for it.
> 
> Always,
> 
> ~L

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Fri, 6 May 2016 09:40
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Curly-Q
> 
> Three. Three showers I’ve taken this morning. I’m beyond late for work, but I call that experiment a success.

 

> **From:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Date:** Fri, 6 May 2016 10:13
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Curly-Q
> 
> Dear Veronica,
> 
> I have some idea of the effort that went in to that last letter, but I’m impressed. I knew you had it in you, I just didn’t think I’d get to see it on paper. Totally in the rotation now. ;P
> 
> I can’t believe that you remember that stupid stunt with the surfboard. I have to say that it was one of the best pranks I’ve ever dreamed up. It does help when you’re the son of the lead and you’ve made friends with the special effects guys. Man, the “blood” in the water was ingenious. I did properly earn that jackass title, though now that I’ve gotten myself educated, I’m more of a smartass, thank you very much.
> 
> Coincidentally, it was on that same set that I used a crossbow. The film was some post-apocalyptic piece of crap and my mom’s character got to haul it around, trying to look badass. It’s not quite a bow and arrow, but I’ll take the point anyway.
> 
> You must already know about the hospital stays, or at least have guessed at how often they occurred. It’s one of the reasons we moved to Neptune in the first place. We ran out of hospitals in the LA area. Too many trips and they start to pay attention. 
> 
> When I was 6 years old, I wanted to be a doctor. Pretty normal dream for a kid, right? I changed my mind that first visit when I realized that even though the doctor was good at putting me back together, he really didn’t help me. What was the point then? 
> 
> Lilly knew, you know. That's why what she did with my dad was so much worse than just fucking him. We never really talked about it, but sometimes right after Aaron…she would come over and we’d just get wasted, trash talking our parents and planning how we were going to just get in the car and drive the fuck away.
> 
> He caught her at my place one morning after a particularly nasty night. He suspected that she had figured it out, and was trying to (not at all subtly) gauge what she knew and what she would do about it. I stopped calling her over after that. I was worried what he would do to her, to her family, if he thought that they knew. Fat lot of good that did, huh?
> 
> We never would have made it in the long run, and she might not ever have been in love with me, but I do know she at least cared at some point.
> 
> I’ve got to go. I’m due on deck in about 20 minutes, and so will probably be out of touch a few days. It should only be maybe two this time, if all goes according to plan. 
> 
> Feel free to send more messages like that one, btw. One can never have too many.
> 
> Always,
> 
> ~L

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Sat, 7 May 2016 20:55
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Curly-Q
> 
> Dear Logan,
> 
> I think I’ve tried to start this letter four times already since yesterday. All I can see in my head is a cycle of images of you. As a six year old lying in a hospital bed with Aaron pretending to be the doting father. As the 12 year old boy I met at the Kanes, wearing the rash guard in the pool because you claimed you were allergic to the sun. That time you came to school with a broken nose, telling the story of how your dad fired the maid because she knocked you with the vacuum. A few times when Lilly called me to come and help take care of you when you guys were drunk off your asses, and how gently she handled you.
> 
> I’m not proud of it, but I admit that my first reaction to your letter was to get angry all over again. I am furious at Lilly for doing that to you, and it’s warring with guilt for being angry with my dead best friend.
> 
> I spent the whole day at Dog Beach staring into the waves, guilty for my reaction. I’ve calmed down, reprocessed this whole thing and honestly, I’m tired of being angry. My overwhelming emotions, other than the desperate need I have right now to hold you, are sadness and guilt. I’m sorry we never talked about this before, that you had to carry this by yourself. I’m sorry I never brought up the abuse when Trina let it slip. You should have known you were not alone.
> 
> I have no words, no excuses.
> 
> Hurry home to me, Logan. I have years of making up to do.
> 
> Stay safe! 79 days.
> 
> ~V

 

> **From:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Date:** Sun, 8 May 2016 17:50
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Curly-Q
> 
> Just a quick note to tell you I’m back safe and sound. Also, please don’t feel guilty. There was nothing you could have done. Trying might have gotten you hurt and I couldn’t have taken losing anyone else. I’m all right now. Leave it be.
> 
> 78 days.
> 
> Always,
> 
> ~L

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to the goddess ELSchaaf, who paused in the middle of her life stuff to beta this for me at a reasonable time frame. The lady is awesome! I waffled with adding some Lilly back story which would rewrite (add to?) cannon a little, but I wasn't sure that I bought it (and I wrote it!) and my beta didn't either, so out it went. Hope this all sounds OK anyway. Feedback always appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I don't own anything, I'm just borrowing them from RT.

Veronica had been spoiled the last week or so. Logan’s ship had docked for supplies (location still unknown, but she suspected somewhere in Southeast Asia) and they had been able to Skype almost every day. He had told her just this afternoon that they were shipping out again that day for their last stint at sea before making their way home. Just over 2 months left. Veronica had never considered herself a patient person, but the wait was getting ridiculous.

She had just come back from another successful stakeout, her third this week. She hated to spend so many nights this way, but she really couldn’t afford to turn down any jobs. The money from the missing girls’ case helped pay the bills in the short term, but it wouldn’t last forever.  

Her dad had even started to request some case files to read. It wasn’t much, but Veronica was encouraged by his progress. Frankly, he was starting to drive her a little crazy at home. He clearly needed to get out of the house.

Still buzzed from all the coffee she’d had while waiting in her car, she opened her computer and started an email.

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Sat, 21 May 2016 02:23
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Happy Meme-versary
> 
> We made it! One month of questions complete (OK, slightly more than one month, but who cares). I cannot wait for you to be home so I can hold you and prove to myself that you’re really OK, that we’re really OK. We’ve already dealt with so many of our issues over this month, and I am certain it’s because this forced separation is making us take the time to have all the conversations we never had in the past. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve tackled the questions list, but I haven’t forgotten it. I guess I just needed a breather after bringing up all that other stuff. And getting to talk to you “live” was just too amazing to bother with the heavy stuff. But now that we’re back to emails, here is another set of answers for you. Today on Jeopardy: I'll take ‘What Veronica Looks Like ' for $200, Alex.”
> 
> **12\. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans?**
> 
> I’m 5 foot nothing and 100 pounds dripping wet. There is nothing else for me but skinny jeans. Those or jeans from the kids section, but it’s too humiliating shopping there. Good thing they make me look so darn cute.
> 
> **23\. Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s?**
> 
> I have my mother’s eyes. Maybe if they had been my dad’s, none of the crap with Duncan would have happened. God, can you imagine, Logan, the difference it would have made if I had just one physical trait of my father’s? I don’t mean it would have changed the ultimate outcome with Duncan, because I truly don’t believe we would have made it anyway. It’s just, if we wouldn’t have broken up at that time, then when I told Lilly about Yolanda, you and I would still have been around each other because of Duncan. Maybe it would have forced us to make up about that and you wouldn’t have already been so pissed at me when Lilly died. Maybe we would have been talking, and I could have explained to you why I was sticking with my dad, and…none of the rest would have happened. I like to think I would have evolved into some of the badass chick I became anyway, because looking back at Veronica 1.0, I cringe at the syrupy naivety. I like myself this way. Better to go into the world with your eyes open. It hurts less when the seediness slaps you across the face. I also need some of this edge to fit with you. I wouldn’t trade that in for anything.
> 
> Mind you, maybe I’ll end up passing on the balding gene of my dad’s to our kids.
> 
> **26\. Is your current hair color your natural hair color?**
> 
> You could see that yourself before you left. ;P
> 
> **44\. Do you tan?**
> 
> Not for the price I pay in sunscreen every year. I will be even happier about this (and I’m sure you will too) when we’re old and I don’t have to look at a leathery saddle face in the mirror every day. Also, I am opposed to skin cancer.
> 
> **60\. Wear slippers?**
> 
> Not now that I’m home. It’s too hot. But in NYC? Absolutely. Our apartment was heat controlled, and the super kept it just warm enough in the winter so the pipes didn’t freeze, but not much warmer.
> 
> I feel like by alluding to Piz with the “our apartment” reference, this might be a good time to explain how all that happened again. I was sure when you saw Piz at the reunion that you assumed we had been together since Hearst. I realized later that Mac would have told you otherwise. Have I ever told you how happy I am that you and Mac got to be friends? I didn’t really talk about you with her because I knew it would be awkward for her (and it was too hard to hear about you), so until I came back, I didn’t really understand how close you guys had grown. I mean, I found out you were friends when she told me that you had enlisted, but I didn’t know how to react after trying to keep you in a separate box for so long. I regret maybe depriving you of a friend sooner.
> 
> After the Gory incident, Piz and I lasted maybe a day. I couldn’t even look him in the eye after you left the cafeteria because I was afraid he would see how what you did made me feel, the visceral longing that shot through me. We both knew it was over. I don’t even remember who decided it or said the words. Doesn’t really matter.
> 
> He had an internship that summer in NYC, and transferred out of Hearst the following semester to stay there. I didn’t even know he was still there until Wallace mentioned it when I told him I was going to Columbia. We crossed paths a few times when Wallace was in town visiting, but we didn’t actually hang out until my last year of law school. Wallace came to town for his birthday, and we all went out to celebrate. That night, it seemed like the past was forgotten, and Piz called me the following week to ask me out to dinner. Six months of meals and movies later, my lease was up on my place and it seemed like a good way to save money, so I moved in with him. It was easy. It’s always been easy with Piz. He doesn’t ask any questions, and I think Wallace briefed him on some of the stuff that had happened in Neptune, so I didn’t have to explain any of that either. He didn’t seem to mind that I was busy with school, and I didn’t mind that I was away from him so much. He was still there when I took the time to be around. Man, I sound like an incredible bitch, don’t I? But the truth is, he suited the life I thought I should be living. I loved him because he was the kind of guy I was supposed to love. I convinced myself that I didn’t need huge passion, because with huge passion comes the potential for huge pain, as we both know. I was pretty successful at running from the pain, so decided that I didn’t need the passion either. I settled.
> 
> The week after you called for help, Piz’s parents were scheduled to fly to NYC to meet me. I knew what that meant, knew that the proposal could not be far behind. Piz’s final words to me were completely right though: whatever feelings made me have to stay in Neptune to help you, they should have been directed at him to get me on that plane to go back. Did I use your call as an excuse not to meet his parents? I don’t think so. On paper, that’s what it sounds like based on my track record, I know. But it wasn’t that I was running from Piz to you. It was more that I was running from what Piz represented, and towards what you represented. My life there was easy but boring. My life here is hard, but it’s also exciting, and useful, and it allows me to be me. Finally, I can accept that this is who I am. I’m dark, and dirty (not that way, perv. Well, maybe that way too, but not in this context), and curious and self-righteous and determined and full of baggage and issues. You are too, I’m sorry to say (was that a secret? Hope not! ;P). And that’s OK. We never worked before because for me to love and accept those things about you, I would have had to at least acknowledge them in myself, and I wasn’t ready to do that yet. I’m ready now. 
> 
> **62\. What do you wear to bed?**
> 
> Would you like to know what I’m wearing right now, big guy? I told you above that I’m dirty, so what do you think I’m wearing? Could it be that blue shirt I ripped off you that first night, with some little white panties underneath? There are barely any buttons left to hold it together, so imagine how my body must be reacting to the chill. I could really use your hands over here warming me up.
> 
> **88\. Ever have plastic surgery?**
> 
> ?? I might be a California girl, but that’s just… No. I won’t say that the bigger boobs wouldn’t be nice, but I’ve come to realize that the old adage about anything more than a handful being a waste is true. For the longest time, part of my issues with sex was because I believed that my body could never measure up to how sexy Lilly was (or any of the other bombshells that seemed to hover like vultures). I had to listen to her describe how hot sex with you was so many times, and how fabulous she was and you were and how much you apparently appreciated her…assets…that when we finally had sex, well, I always had a running comparison in the back of my head (more stuff to feed into the Madison issues, but yet again, later).
> 
> **61\. Wear a bath robe?**
> 
> Of course.
> 
> **65\. Nike or Adidas?**
> 
> Nike all the way, baby.
> 
> So now that I’ve pulled off the Band-Aid with the Piz thing, are you comfortable telling me about Carrie? I’d like to hear more.
> 
> Stay safe! 64 days.
> 
> ~V

 

> **From:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Date:** Sat, 21 May 2016 04:44
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Happy Meme-versary
> 
> After talking to you the last few days, all I can think about right now is the lilt of your voice and the tilt of your head, how I want to brush back your hair and kiss your forehead. Only about two more months. We’ve survived four, we can make it that last two.
> 
> We’re back at sea, no land in sight, and I’m grateful for my calming view of the ocean after reading your email. I’ve gone from sadness and longing to shock, elation, and happiness right over to horny followed closely by jealousy. And then right there at the end? A smattering of frustration. You certainly bring a hurricane of emotions, Veronica. You should come with your own alert system.
> 
> I’m not entirely sure if you know what you wrote, or if it was intended. The words exploded off the screen at me and are now running on a loop in my head. I sat on deck for an hour arguing with myself. Do I point out what you said, or let it go? If I tell you and you didn’t mean it, how will I deal with that? Do I want to be faced with the certainty of what you really meant, or am I happier living in my fantasy? As you know, I’m an excellent debater, so the conversation went on for some time. I finally convinced myself that the only way my fantasy had a chance in hell of becoming a reality is to discuss it. Intended or not, I hope I’m not shooting myself in the foot by pointing it out to you.
> 
> _Our kids._
> 
> _When we’re old._
> 
> I know it’s still early for us (how can it really be after 15 years and 4 failed attempts, though) but I don’t think I’ve ever heard you so committed before. I don’t know how you really feel about having kids. Shit, I don’t know how I feel about it, to be honest. But you considered it a possibility even just in passing and that has just confirmed to me that we will truly make us work this time.
> 
> I’m too wrapped up in thoughts of you right now to focus on responding to anything else. I’ve meditated a lot these last few months about whether or not I should open up to you or let you set the pace, but you’ve always been able to read me and what I was feeling. It can’t be a secret that I still love you. Despite all the years, despite the other relationships, I don’t think I ever stopped. I know better than to expect you to say the words back at this point, and truly, that’s OK. Your emails speak for you (I hope). When you’ll be ready, you’ll be ready. Until then, know that I look forward to getting old with you. Leather faces and all.
> 
> I love you, always.
> 
> ~L
> 
>  

Veronica slams shut her laptop and begins to pace. She can feel the old panic instinct start to rise up in her throat. Or maybe that’s bile.

_Admit nothing, deny everything and make counter-accusations._

She grabs her purse and her keys and flies out of the house. Twenty minutes later, she finds herself sitting against a semi-secluded sand dune staring at the ocean. It hasn’t escaped her notice that she now heads to the beach when she’s trying to calm down because it makes her feel closer to Logan. You would think that since it’s his email that she’s running from, she would have chosen another location to brood, but she found that she doesn’t actually want to run from him. Doesn’t mean she’s not terrified about that.

“OK, so why are you frowning, Bond?” Veronica turned toward the voice to see Mac approach.

“Because it takes 42 muscles to frown and only 17 to smile and I need the exercise?”

“Somehow I don’t think you called me to meet you here to exercise. What do you think Logan did now?”

“How do you know this is about Logan?”

“Are we trying to see how many times we can volley questions back and forth again? Pretty sure you always win at that game.” Mac responds drily.

Staring at the water, Veronica tells Mac about her email to Logan and his reply. When she’s done, Mac looks at her expectantly, as though waiting for the punch line. “I don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?”

“How you can be such a gifted detective and yet so oblivious. Look, you can’t honestly sit there and tell me that you’re surprised that he loves you. You may be unwilling to admit those feelings in yourself, and that’s fine, expected even, for you. But you can’t seriously say that what he said surprised you in the least. You’re reacting this way because his declaration is making you face your own feelings. It has nothing to do with you not wanting him to love you, or you not wanting to be in this relationship.”

“I didn’t even realize what I wrote, Mac. I don’t know if I want kids. We’ve only been back together a little over four months, and not even in the same location! How can I be talking about kids, and getting old with him?” Veronica hid her face in her hands.

“Doesn’t the fact that you didn’t even know you wrote it say something about how you really feel about it? Seems to me if you really were opposed to those things, they would never have slipped out.”

Veronica looked up at her friend wryly. “I’m sorry to dump this on you, Mac, especially given your friendship with Logan. Wallace is still…well, not the best option for this conversation.”

“It’s fine. Your bill is in the mail.” Mac answered with a smile. “Look, I know Logan. I know in the past he was always looking for you to validate your feelings in some way or another. But he’s come a long way now. He’s giving you a pass, V. He’s not expecting you to be ready to say it yet. Just admit that to him, and let it happen when it’s ready to happen. He’ll wait. Trust me, he ain’t gonna fuck this up.”

“Neither will I, you know. “ Veronica answered softly but with determination. “Not this time.” 

The girls rose and returned to their cars. Veronica wanted to reply as soon as possible, so she hugged Mac quickly and sped home. 

Mac watched her leave, mulling over the sincerity she’d seen in Veronica’s face. “I know you won’t, Veronica. That’s why I suggested he call you in the first place. Maybe instead of Q, they should be calling me M, coming up with the master plans.”

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Sat, 21 May 2016 13:11
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Happy Meme-versary
> 
> You don’t hope in vain but my emails will still be speaking for me for a little while longer. Please don’t be upset.

 

Veronica checked her email every hour at least, nervously waiting for Logan’s reply.

_Please don’t be mad. Please don’t be mad._

By the time the Inbox pinged with her message, it was a whole day later, and she was a nervous wreck.

 

> **From:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Date:** Sun, 22 May 2016 12:23
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Happy Meme-versary
> 
> Baby, I knew when we started this again that you were still you and I was still me. As long as those emails keep coming, I’ll wait. But please accept my words of love. Don’t deny me that gift to you.
> 
> Now to respond to the rest of what you wrote. I honestly don’t know if we had still been talking if anything would have been different when Lilly died. I was so angry it’s hard to see how it would have changed anything at all. But it does no good to go down that road. We can’t alter what happened. I can’t deny that badass Veronica Mars made it so that I didn’t have to worry about corrupting you anymore, though. It made you attainable. And sexy as hell. Whatever you intend to tell me about your Madison issues, will not change the fact that I will spend the rest of my life proving to you just how sexy you are.
> 
> It feels weird segueing into my relationship with Carrie after that, but whatever. It’s time you heard the story. You already know about the bad year, so I won’t rehash that. I’d prefer to tell you about the good year, about what she was really like.
> 
> It’s no surprise that I reconnected with her through Dick, Gia and that gang. I was at Dick’s for a little time off, a long weekend, I guess about one year into my initial fleet duty. We all got together and she was there. I hadn’t seen her since high school, and I’ll admit that initially I still thought of her as “The Gossip” and the sarcastic bitch she turned into after the whole fake-baby thing. Then, as we were talking, I realized that she was actually really funny, and that the impression we had in high school was completely off (What? Someone’s reputation misrepresented them? Now who else on this email could possibly identify with that?). In getting to know her better, I learned that, like you, she wasn’t really an 09er either. She was an 06er with an after school waitressing job who was allowed across the velvet rope into the fold and used sarcasm to deal with the idiots of the world.
> 
> Anyway, we hit it off that night, and I saw her as often as I could get up to LA or she could come down to San Diego. I was on land another 6 months, and by the time I deployed, we were pretty serious. The 6 months I was gone were hard for her, I think. She liked my uniform, but didn’t particularly like that I was actually in the Navy. While I was gone her first album went viral, and she started attracting the hangers-on that inevitably gravitate towards the rich and famous. I tried to warn her about the people she was surrounding herself with. Some of them were harmless, like Gia (ironically). Others were vermin, like Sean. But being so far away, I wasn’t terribly convincing. By the time I’d gotten back, she’d started to spiral, and then you know the rest.
> 
> The six months we were physically together, and even the months of long distance, were great. We were happy, I thought. In love. A different kind of love than we have, but real for me. It hurt when I realized that she was using, and she (pick one) wouldn’t/ couldn’t/didn’t want to/wasn’t ready to get clean. But after my mom, I couldn’t go down that road again. I had to leave her. I had to.
> 
> I’ve been talking to the psychiatrist on board and it’s helping with my guilt. I feel like I let her down. I wish I could have done more.
> 
> I don’t want to upset you by telling you this, but I want you to know everything.
> 
> I have to go. if I don’t eat now, there will be nothing until supper. 63 days.
> 
> I love you, always,
> 
> ~L

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Sun, 22 May 2016 13:11
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Happy Meme-versary
> 
> You wouldn’t be Logan if you weren’t trying to save the world and everyone in it. I’m glad you told me about Carrie. It sounds like I misjudged her in high school. I wish I would have known the real person and not just the reputation. You can talk to me about her anytime.
> 
> Stay safe (and well fed)!
> 
> ~V
> 
> P.S. I realized in all this talk that I didn’t wish you a Happy Armed Forces Day. Thank you for protecting my civil liberties and all that you do. I am proud to be serviced by you. ;P

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how Elschaaf puts up with me through this, but I'm eternally grateful! Thanks for all the feedback and kudos you've all been leaving. It's like a present to my self-confidence every time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing, Rob Thomas owns this world. Just a factoid: the part about the peanuts is a true story, but with Brazil nuts.

There are days when you feel like you can do anything, and then there are days when you just want to curl up into a ball and be held. Veronica hated admitting that she had those curl up kind of days, and usually she was so busy she didn’t have time to mope. But today she had nothing to do, and the only person that she wanted to hold her was half way around the world on a floating tin can. Life sucked, she was out of ice cream, and she wanted to wallow.

_I guess email will have to do. Ugh._

 

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Thurs, 26 May 2016 20:00
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** It’s my party I can cry if I want to
> 
> Dear Logan,
> 
> I’m so tired. I would love to say that’s it’s because I’m swamped with work, but no. It’s caused more by worry and stress than being too busy. I’ve been trying not to mention it, but the caseload at MI has been sporadic at best. I don’t really mean to hide it, it’s just that compared to what your bad days must look like, I feel petty complaining about my job. I’m not sure what to do about it anymore. I’ve been trying my best to keep things afloat, but with my dad still out of commission, I guess people don’t think we’re open yet, or maybe that little ol’ me can handle the ugly Neptune underbelly. Whatever the reasons, I’m running out of money to pay Mac, and she quit a cushy, high-paying job to come and help me. I also won’t be able to pay the rent soon, so maybe she won’t have a place to come to work anyway.
> 
> Part of my bad mood is also because Lianne and Hunter left to go back to Tuscon this morning. Lamb’s evidence is weak, so he couldn’t find anything to hold her on, and exhausted every possible way to detain her. She’ll probably have to come back in a few weeks to finalize a few more things, but I think she was happy to get out of here, finally. Some things never change I guess. She was starting to get awfully accusatory when I would come round, too. I think she might have started drinking again. I suggested a couple of places to go to a meeting, but she got so upset, I just left the info and ran. I’m sorry to see Hunter go, though. If she really is drinking again, I can’t help him from all the way over here. I taught him my phone number, and told him to call me if Mommy ever seemed to be in trouble, or he needed me. I never thought a month ago I could feel like this about him, but damned if I haven’t turned into a pretty respectable sister.
> 
> I shouldn’t unload all this on you so excuse the pity party. Let’s turn this into a real party and answer some music questions tonight. Maybe it’ll inspire me to dance around my room with my hairbrush to make myself feel better. LOL! Remember that video we found when we did that tribute to Lilly? She and I were such dorks. I still miss her. OK, Maestro, let’s get this party started.
> 
> **13\. What are you gonna do Saturday night?**
> 
> I got my dad tickets for us to that jazz club he likes in San Diego. He can finally get out of the house (with help), so we’re going to go out to celebrate.
> 
> **14\. What are you going to spend money on next?**
> 
> See above. I may not be able to buy him that steak dinner to go along with it, MI’s lack of work being what it is, but I can swing a little manicotti and garlic bread.
> 
> **34\. Listening to?**
> 
> Ugh. I’m loath to admit how much of a sappy girl I’ve become with you gone. I’ve made a playlist of all these songs that make me think of you, and I like to play it while I’m writing to you. Right now it’s I Hear the Bells. I still love that song. I’d also love to know how you remembered that speech. I was so distracted by you leaving that I didn’t think about it until later. You clearly had no idea what I was talking about the next morning after Alterna-prom (God that was mortifying. One of those memories I wish I could bleach out of my head). When did it come back to you? It’s embarrassing how often I thought about that speech over the years. On the beach in Greece in particular, when I was trying to decide if I should come home. (It also featured pretty heavily into my rotation over the years, and let’s just say that in my fantasies, it ended very differently).
> 
> As much as I regret the horrible ways that we hurt each other in the past, I don’t really regret leaving. I think we needed those years away from each other to get our shit together. I could never have lived up to being your life preserver; I was too busy sinking myself. We pulled each other down, as much as we were trying to hold each other up. So I don’t regret leaving, Logan, because the time allowed me to heal and make myself ready to come back to you. It also allowed you to find yourself, and show you that it’s not only me who thinks you are an excellent human being (don’t let that blow up your ego too much, Echolls. You are also an excellent jackass when you want to be). What I do regret is that I think we could have gotten all that done in 4 years, 5 years tops.
> 
> **39\. Who was the last person you danced with?**
> 
> Mac, Wallace and Piz at Gia’s during the reunion. Can I tell you a secret? I pretended to be passed out when we got home so I wouldn’t have to do anything with Piz. I was feeling so worked up over you by that point, that I just couldn’t touch him with a clear conscience. Thank goodness he was only there the one night. I could tell he was disappointed though.
> 
> **48\. Do you sing in the shower?**
> 
> You already know the answer to that. I refuse to be embarrassed about you walking in to my rendition of “Cell Block Tango”. I crushed it!
> 
> **49\. Do you dance in the car?**
> 
> Dance? No. Sing? Of course.
> 
> **52\. Do you think musicals are cheesy?**
> 
> Pfft! Musicals are the bomb.
> 
> **63\. First concert?**
> 
> Lilly bought us tickets to go and see Pink the Christmas before she died, remember? You and Duncan were clearly not comfortable enough with your own masculinity to go with us, and you missed out! That show was unbelievable! I’m not sure we ever told you, but she used her feminine wiles to get us past security and backstage. We never got close enough to meet her or anything, but we did meet a dead ringer for Penny Lane. If she had been a boy.
> 
> **68\. Favorite Taylor Swift song?**
> 
> I don’t listen to Taylor Swift. *shifty eyes* OK, except maybe Red. Also, I Knew You Were Trouble. Just those two. Maybe. I admit nothing.
> 
> **69\. Ever take dance lessons?**
> 
> There was this guy towards the end of Stanford, Ryan, and he loved to dance. For his birthday that year I got us some dance lessons. Think Strictly Ballroom, without the pressure of a competition. I’m not bad, but some of those first few lessons made me think of a couple of the earlier scenes from that movie.
> 
> Cool down, Sweet Cheeks. If you let any more steam come out of your ears, I’ll see the smoke signals from here and know where you are. The Navy will have to do Lord knows what to keep that info quiet. I was with Ryan for less than a year. Besides him and Piz, there was only Jason, early in law school. He was a douche, no story there.
> 
> **75\. Do you study better with or without music?**
> 
> I am the Queen of Multitasking, but studying at law school is a whole other beast. One must have complete quiet so that the cells of your brain can only focus on the subject at hand. There are already too few cells to capture all the information. You really can’t be wasting any listening to music at the same time.
> 
> **78\. Who would you like to see in concert?**
> 
> Anything with you. Everything with you. I want to experience it all with you.
> 
> **79\. What was the last concert you saw?**
> 
> A small band in this hole in the wall club in NYC. Piz might work for NPR, but he’s still an indie DJ at heart. I don’t even remember their name. Lots of guitars and tight pants. I liked the tight pants, but not the music.
> 
> **86\. DJ or band, at a wedding?**
> 
> DJ. Wedding bands make me think of the Wedding Singer, and I would never be able to keep a straight face.
> 
> All right, that’s enough of a trip to Funky Town for tonight. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you. I found this song on You Tube earlier, and it really made me think of you. Look up Everyday by Straight No Chaser.
> 
> **20\. Are you starting to realize anything?**
> 
> Yes.
> 
> Stay safe! 59 days.
> 
> ~V

The house was clean. Supper for tomorrow was prepped in the fridge. She’d touched base with Mac about a background check, and went for a run. She was officially out of things to do, and her mind wouldn’t shut up. The last question of her email roared through her head and try as her body might to distract itself, she just couldn’t escape it any longer.

Veronica froze in the living room and stared into the distance.

_You know it’s true, Veronica. You knew it the minute you got off the plane. You knew it when you watched Ruby kiss him. You knew it during the not-long-enough car ride on the way home. You knew it when he pushed you up against the post you’re leaning on right now. You love him, idiot. Tell him, before your well-known bad luck kicks in and you aren’t able to._

_Enough._  

 

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Thurs, 26 May 2016 21:48
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Re: It’s my party I can cry if I want to
> 
> Fuck it Logan. I’m going to do this, even though it’s been maybe 2 hours since the last email. I can’t sit still, vibrating with nervous energy over how I answered that last question. I wish I could see your face while you read these messages; I always know what you’re thinking when I look at you. I don’t know how you can say so much with just the slight movement of an eyebrow or the quirk of your mouth. But you’re there, and I’m here, and I can’t wait to do this anymore. I have questions about us, and things I need to say, and it needs to be now.
> 
> **15\. Are you going out with the last person you kissed?**
> 
> Yes? No? I don’t even know how to answer this question. Does 2 weeks of absolute heaven after 9 years of radio silence mean we’re “going out”? Can we be “going out” when you are on a boat in the middle of a fucking ocean somewhere? I’m driving your car, the only tangible evidence besides these emails and phone calls that this is actually happening and not some completely fictional life I’ve concocted in my head. So we must be something, but we never said what that was. I asked you to come back to me and you promised that you always would, and I’m holding on to that so desperately to get me through these 6 months. So, I guess my answer to this question is yes, for me. I am going out with the last person that I kissed. But it’s so much more than that too. What is it for you? How does this work when you come home?
> 
> **25\. What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy?**
> 
> Is this other boy hot too, because I might be totally OK with that. ;P
> 
> Do you remember the Criminology class I took our first year at Hearst? That paper we had to do describing the perfect murder? Remember how hard I worked on that paper? I think you proofread it for me, even, didn’t you? Remember how I got rid of the body? I got an A+ on that paper, Logan. I’ve even learned better ways of covering up a murder since then. It’s one of those nifty side effects of law school.
> 
> I have been front row center to you kissing other girls, and it broke my heart every time. But that won't happen again so all of this is completely speculatory. It won’t ever be necessary for me to dip into my bag of tricks.
> 
> **29\. Do you really, truly miss someone right now?**
> 
> Yes. One thousand times yes. With everything that is in me. With my every nerve ending and my every tear. All my thoughts are yours every minute of these 180 days.
> 
> **32\. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do?**
> 
> I have always assumed the answer to this to be yes. Of course you know how I felt about you, how I feel about you now. How can you not, when it colored our every interaction, from trying to find your mother to putting a tracker on your car. I asked myself for a long time how you could not see that, not understand.
> 
> But there is no way you could understand, no baseline from which to measure my behavior. The people in your life until then, version 1.0 of myself included, told you one thing, and then did exactly the opposite. We hardly need to even bring up your parents, since just using the Fab 4 as my examples would be enough. Duncan was your best friend since kindergarten, and yet he left without saying goodbye. Lilly forever told you she loved you, and cheated on you relentlessly, with your own father to boot. I clearly cared for you too, first as your friend, and then your girlfriend, and I turned around and ran away every time there was the slightest sign of trouble. Nowhere in your world did actions equate to words equate to reality.
> 
> But I did love you, Logan. Please know that, even though the words got stuck in my throat so many times. Even though my actions did not always translate into the meaning I intended. I will no longer assume that you can telepathically know how I feel about you without actually telling you. But make no mistake. There is one thing you can count on from here on out. My habit of running away, rendering you unsure of my feelings? Gone. The only running I will be doing is toward you when you finally get off that damn boat!
> 
> It seems impossible after only 2 weeks with each other and 4 months of emails. As I already asked above, I don’t even know what your thoughts are for when you come back. Yet, I can’t seem to go another day without telling you this. **77\. Ever been in love?** I am in love right now. I am in love with the most witty, sexy, infuriating, passionate, selfless, snarky soldier man who ever existed. I don’t know that I ever stopped. I don’t ever want to stop. I love you Lt Logan Echolls. Come home to me so that I can show you how much.
> 
> Stay safe!
> 
> I love you!
> 
> ~V

 

 

> **From:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Date:** Fri, 27 May 2016 07:55
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Happy Meme-versary
> 
> Dear Veronica,
> 
> I only just saw your emails but I have just about 15 minutes to grab some food and then I have a briefing. You sounded so unhappy though, that I wanted to take a minute to write back and tell you that everything will work itself out. Just give it time. The publicity that had to have come from the missing girls case will help you in the long run, and your dad is getting back on track. I will never let you lose MI; consider it an investment to add to my portfolio, or a retainer for the next time I need you to get me out of trouble. Or let me convince Dick to invest, if you want to keep me out of it. You should have enough money until I get home, right? It’s only 2 more months. I know you hate this idea, but wait until I get back to start yelling at me. Or yell now, if it will make you feel better. Whatever you need.
> 
> There is so much I want to address in that letter, Bobcat, but I just can’t right now. I’m thinking of you though, and I love you. I’ll write back (to this letter and the other one I haven’t opened in my inbox) as soon as I get another minute.
> 
> 58 days.
> 
> Always,
> 
> ~L

 

Veronica wanted to throw her computer out the window in frustration. She had just finished reading Logan’s email. If he had been in front of her, he would be dead purely from the look on her face. She couldn’t decide if she was more upset by his offer to invest in MI, or the fact that he didn’t read her damn email.

Closing her eyes and counting to 10, she breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth slowly, like she learned in yoga. When she was calm, she got ready for work, and headed over to the office, still in a foul mood. Mac tried to figure out what was wrong, but Veronica was having none of it. Finally, she couldn’t stand herself anymore either, left the office and headed for the beach, where she stayed until dark. She checked her phone every 15 minutes. When her phone died, she decided to go home and stare at her computer.

No messages from Logan.

The next day was a repeat of the same. By the end of the day, Veronica was asking Mac how to tap into the Navy’s servers. Unfortunately, Mac’s eyebrows raised to her hairline indicated that it wasn’t really an option. Refusing to take that as an answer, Veronica asked Mac to come up with something, anything, and went home.

The next morning, she couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t have run from her email, right? Not after all this time? Not when he had told her he loved her first. But if not, then…she refused to go there.

She opened her computer.

 

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Sun, 29 May 2016 10:24
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Eating my emotions
> 
> It’s been 2 days, Logan. If you thought 9 years of radio silence was long, you should know that is nothing compared to how I’m feeling right now. I am trying to assume that my grand declaration of love is not what caused this black hole of communication, but the alternatives that I am coming up with are much, much worse. Please be OK. We need a way for me to get information, because I am considering some options of getting it that I’m sure our national security would disapprove of.
> 
> In case I scared you off, maybe you misunderstood. What I meant to say was that I love lasagna. Stupid autocorrect got it all wrong. Want to know my other opinions about food? Here, let me stave off my growing concern at your lack of emails by answering some light and fluffy stuff:
> 
> **41\. When was the last time you ate a cupcake?**
> 
> Those little glorious mounds of delicious chocolate and frosting? Not recently enough. Maybe instead of snickerdoodles for the office this week I should make cupcakes.
> 
> **54\. Ever eat a pierogi?**
> 
> I lived in the East Village for the first few years. No one in NYC cooks, you just find your favorite cheap neighborhood food and pick something up on your way home. There was this restaurant 2 blocks from my house that I walked by everyday that made the best pierogies. This little old Polish lady stood behind the counter for hours everyday making those little packets of deliciousness. I wasted so many months refusing to go in there until my roommate brought some home one day and I tried them without asking where they came from. After I finished blissing out, I realized that I would have to cowboy up and get them myself next time. The place was called Neptune. I am not joking.
> 
> **55\. Favorite type of fruit pie?**
> 
> Well, my boyfriend is an All-American Navy pilot so the only answer possible is apple pie. I now have an image of you in my mind re-enacting the scene from American Pie. I suddenly don’t know if I’m hungry or horny.
> 
> **59\. Take a vitamin daily?**
> 
> With all the crap I’ve put in my body, I have no choice. At least the fast food choices are healthier in SoCal than they were in NYC. I refuse to give up dessert for dinner night though.
> 
> **66\. Cheetos Or Fritos?**
> 
> Doritos. Why do they all end in –itos?
> 
> **67\. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds?**
> 
> I guess this is the place to tell you that I developed a peanut allergy. That was a fun discovery. I’d gone away for a weekend to a friend’s cabin, which happened to be in this tiny town on an island in the middle of a lake. We accessed it by rowboat, no shit. Someone had brought up a bag of peanuts. I popped one and a few minutes later my lips felt funny and my tongue was itchy. Someone forced an antihistamine down my throat, and thank God it didn’t get worse. When I got back, I got tested and voila! I now have a healthy respect for you and your shellfish allergy. My answer will therefore be sunflower seeds.
> 
> **82\. Favorite type of cookie?**
> 
> Do I have to answer this, or is that fact that I am part snickerdoodle answer enough?
> 
> **89\. Which are better black or green olives?**
> 
> Satan’s fruit, right up there with anchovies. *shudder*
> 
> See? Levity. All back to normal, so you can come out of hiding and respond to me please.
> 
> **36\. Do you know where the last person you kissed is?**
> 
> I had a reasonable amount of information to think my answer was yes, but now I’m not sure. Where are you, Logan? You promised to come back to me, dammit, and I am holding you to it!
> 
> Stay safe! 56 days.
> 
> ~V

 

Hearing her email alert go off, she dove off the couch in front of Mac’s desk towards her computer. Mac jumped up and followed a few seconds behind. Everyone had been jumpy the last few days. Veronica was fit to be tied. She was completely useless at work, and could only sit quietly and stare into the distance, waiting for Logan’s email to come.

Mac and Wallace didn’t know what to do with her, how to help. Mac started digging as much as she could safely dig, but hadn’t been able to get very far. Wallace was still working, but was checking in during breaks, and had come over the last few evenings to sit with her and talk her off the ledge. Keith was just as worried as Veronica, but refused to admit it.

Hopefully, this was Logan finally checking in. As Mac came up behind Veronica though, she was just able to catch the pallor of her face as she clicked over to her inbox.

“Oh my God.” Veronica’s hands started shaking so badly she couldn’t aim the mouse to open the message. Mac put a steadying hand over hers, and double clicked.

 

> **From:** Robert Porter <[r.porter@usnavy.gov](mailto:mail%20to:%20r.porter@usnavy.gov)>
> 
> **Date:** Wed, 1 June 2016 10:29
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** L.E.
> 
> Dear Veronica,
> 
> My name is Lt. Robert Porter, and I’m a pilot in L’s squad. He was in a situation a few days ago during which he sustained some injuries that resulted in his being unconscious until this morning. He is currently in our infirmary in stable condition.
> 
> Normally, the Navy is not in the habit of emailing people like this, so I apologize for this irregular communication with the vague names and details. However, L hasn’t been able to calm down since he woke up, and I owed him a favor. He asked me to email you and let you know what happened, and that he will call you as soon as he is allowed. I can’t really give you any more information; I shouldn’t even be sending this one. But he knew you weren’t on the call list because you weren’t technically family, so he basically blew up the machines he’s tied to trying to get to a phone. This was the compromise to get him quiet again.
> 
> He told me to tell you: Always.
> 
> He’ll be OK. He’s tough and has been through worse.
> 
> Regards,
> 
> Rob

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many comments have pointed to sections that would not have worked had it not been for my wonderful beta, ELSchaaf. I owe it all to her. Thanks to all for coming back for more.
> 
> And, I apologize for the ending. Kinda.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rob Thomas owns the characters, but V&L own my imagination. You guys absolutely own my blushing gratitude. I hope you find it worth the wait.

“Veronica.”

Her legs went weak at the sound of Logan’s voice. She hadn’t looked at the display before answering her phone, and was completely unprepared for who she found on the other end. 

“Logan, thank God!” She sank onto the couch in relief.  But that relief was short-lived when she realized how fragile he sounded.

“Hey, baby. They finally transferred me to a local military hospital with an honest to goodness telephone. No more waiting to get in range of cell service.”

“Are you OK?” Veronica, overwhelmed by the emotion she felt at finally talking to him, automatically defaulted to teasing, “How long till you’re back on your surfboard, d’you think?”

“You caught me! This was all just a ruse to take a 6 month long surfing vacation. I’ll be back out there in no time.” Logan’s comeback was a poor attempt at his usual snark. He was clearly still too sluggish to be convincing.

Veronica’s eyes were closed and she was completely focused on listening, trying to infer his condition from between the lines of his banter. “Har har. Your rattled head doesn’t seem to have affected your smartassery. I’m sure you’ll be fine.” The quiver in her voice belied the lightness of her tone.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to call you and get you news. You got Bubbles’ - I mean - Rob’s email, right?”

“Yeah, but that was a week ago. There isn’t enough going on here to keep me distracted. I was sure he would have contacted me again if anything had gone wrong, but it’s still been—” She cut off abruptly.

“I know. I wish there was something I could have done.”

Suddenly, Veronica couldn’t hold it in anymore. The words escaped past the dam she’d carefully built to contain the ocean of fear and worry she’d been carrying around since he left. The dam had weakened considerably these last few days, as if admitting her feelings to herself had caused cracks, letting all of the other emotions just leak through. She had barely been functional.

“Dammit Logan! I love you! You promised to come home to me, do you hear me! If you even think about breaking your word, I’ll hunt you down and bring you back just to kill you myself!” she said sharply.

The line went completely silent for what seemed like an eternity.

“I’m sorry, I must be hallucinating. What did you say?” Logan’s low voice cracked in shock.

“You aren’t hallucinating, “ Veronica answered, a smile in her voice. “I love you.” Her words were deliberate and confident. “If you hadn’t gone and gotten yourself hurt, you would have known that two weeks ago.”

“God, Veronica! I love you too, baby. What do you mean, two weeks ago?“ Logan’s voice had been weak before, but now it was barely there. Veronica could tell he was fading fast.

“When you can stand to look at a computer screen, go read your email. Until then the important part is that I love you.”

“I lov…” Silence.

“Logan?!? Hello?!” Veronica shrieked into the phone. Suddenly, a soothing but cheerful female voice came over the line.

“Hello? Lt. Echolls is fine. Just fell asleep from the medication. My name is Sally; I’m his nurse and I’m right here with him. We’re weaning him off some pretty strong stuff, but it’s still enough to knock him out. He’ll call you in the next few days, as soon as he’s able.”

After thanking Sally absently, Veronica hung up the phone and looked up to find Mac staring at her, relief and amusement warring for control over her expression. “What?” Veronica demanded.

“That didn’t take as long as I thought it would, but I was still closer than Wallace. Drinks are on him tonight!” Mac was smug in her reply.

“ You _bet_ on my relationship? I should be furious, but I’m too relieved to even…” And just like that, tough as nails Veronica Mars crumpled and started sobbing.

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Thurs, 9 June 2016 09:38
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Relief
> 
> Dear Logan,
> 
> How are you feeling today? This emailing thing is starting to get pretty old. It’s infuriating wanting to reach you and having to wait to get a response, especially with you in the hospital. I’m still having flashbacks of the last two weeks. Don’t you ever do that to me again, do you hear me? To make it worse, it was Memorial Day while I was waiting for news, and it was all I could do to hold it together. Thank God for Wallace. He is truly the bestest of the FFs. I’m thankful to Mac, too, for reasons I won’t mention in this email because I’d rather she not rot in jail. I am officially done with this whole waiting thing. You need to come home now. Do you hear me, Navy? Send. Him. The Fuck. Home.
> 
> **73\. Have you ever cried because you were so happy?**
> 
> We’re never to speak of it again, but I cried like a baby right after we hung up. I have never been so happy to hear your voice in my entire life. Any chance that since you’re in the military hospital for a while you’ll be able to call a little more often? Wait, can I call you?!? I need to hear that you’re OK for myself. Now that I can form a coherent sentence, can you tell me what happened? And I forgot to ask about your wingman. Mace is OK, too, right? I know you must be in a lot of pain with the concussion, but considering how much worse it could have been…Never mind, I can’t even think about it.
> 
> I love you!!
> 
> Stay safe! 45 days!
> 
> ~V

 

> **From:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Date:** Thurs, 9 June 2016 12:12
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Relief
> 
> Dear Veronica,
> 
> My head is killing me so this email will be short, but I didn’t want you to worry if you didn’t hear from me. I want to come home too, V. We’re so close to the end, but I can’t travel right now anyway, even if they’d let me. It was all so idiotic, too. The plane underwent some maintenance the day before we went up. The mechanic changed the tires, but somehow missed the part where the doohickey went into the thingamajig. They design it to be idiot proof apparently, but you know what they say; make it idiot proof and someone will make a better idiot. Anyway, the front tire blew out as we landed. We ricocheted pretty badly and my head got bounced around. Mace broke his thumb, but just a small fracture. He’s doing fine.
> 
> Love you, always.
> 
> ~L

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Thurs, 9 June 2016 13:02
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Re: Relief
> 
> Don’t make yourself worse by emailing me. Take a few days before answering if you need to. I’m tough, I can handle it. You could always call ;P.
> 
> I’m happy that Mace is OK, too. His broken thumb means you’ll be grounded for at least three weeks, right? I know it depends on you, too.  If you aren’t feeling TOO many symptoms, maybe it won’t take so long to recover? At least your sexy good looks shouldn’t be permanently damaged even if your bell’s been rung a few more times. Flat tire on the landing. Thank God you’d already caught the wire. Stupid. I mean, don’t they train these people? I hope someone has started an investigation into what happened and why that bozo was ever allowed near a plane. What kind of reprimand is he getting?
> 
> I’m just glad it wasn’t my emails that made you silent. Blurting everything out like that when you called probably wasn’t ideal and I know it wasn’t the best timing, but I was so relieved you were OK…the filter between my brain and my mouth completely failed. It’s still not effortless for me to say the words, Logan, but I’ll try and say it as much as I can so that you truly believe that I mean it.
> 
> I love you!!
> 
> Stay safe!
> 
> ~V

 

It was just after lunch on Saturday, and Veronica had just spilled her third coffee in two days all over her desk. She was irritated at herself not just for being a klutz, but for telling Logan not to check in if he wasn’t feeling up to it.

_What were you thinking, idiot! Now how are you going to know how he is! What if he can’t call? What if they missed some internal bleeding and he’s – knock it off, Mars!_

She checked her phone for the hundredth time since Thursday afternoon to make sure it wasn’t dead and the ringer was on. Suddenly, her email chimed and she raced to open the new message.

 

> **From:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Date:** Sat, 11 June 2016 13:41
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Relief
> 
> Dear Veronica,
> 
> The headache has finally eased enough that I can stare at a computer screen for a little while. I’ll try and call you later tonight, but I was curious about those emails you were talking about. You’ve been a busy little bee answering questions, haven’t you? I’m so far behind, but let’s start with the most important thing:
> 
> I love you.
> 
> Your words healed me better than any meds they’ve given me here. I did know how you felt all those years ago, I guess, but hearing you say it is light years more fulfilling than anything that came before. Tell me as often as you want. Feel free to show me as much as you want, too. ;P
> 
> I love you.
> 
> To answer your question about what this is for me, it’s simple, really. We. Are. It. End game. You can put whatever label on us that makes you happy and comfortable, sweetheart, but you are mine and I am yours. Period.
> 
> I love you.
> 
> I intend to date the shit out of you 43 days from now. Fancy dinners, movies, walks on the beach, ferris wheels and stuffed bears. Flowers and chocolates. Home cooked meals and late night talk shows. The best sex of your life. The whole shebang. And then, a few weeks later ( ;P ), if you want to move in, you know, whatever. In all seriousness, even if it takes weeks, months or (God forbid) years, as long as we are together, I’m good.
> 
> I love you.
> 
> Always,
> 
> ~L

 

Veronica finished reading Logan’s email, unable to stop the tears from running down her face, but smiling so much her cheeks hurt.

_Well then, at least now I know where his head is at, both medically and emotionally._

She read it again two more times ( _You’re such a marshmallow!_ ) before replying.

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Sat, 11 June 2016 14:09
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Re: Relief
> 
> Dear Logan,
> 
> If there’s going to be home cooked meals, I hope the Navy taught you how to cook. You know how much I like food, but living in NYC did not enhance my life skills in that area. And the best sex of my life, huh? You know how much I like my dessert topped with chocolate syrup…and ice cream. ;)
> 
> Honestly Logan, going slowly at this point seems both wise and pointless. Wise because we really should get used to being around each other again before we jump into any kind of domesticity. Pointless, because how much slower can we go than fifteen years?! Even with the nine year gap in there, I feel closer to you after these five months than at any other point in the many iterations of our relationship. Maybe we should set up some ground rules now, while we can still think with any kind of perspective. How about we stay together no more often than two nights in a row for the next three months at least and then re-evaluate? Does that sound reasonable and adult?
> 
> Today was a good day. Sadly, getting paid for a job is the best part of some of these cases lately. A decent sized check finally cleared and, with what we had before, I can keep MI going at least a few more months. Mac is thrilled that she’s getting paid again, even though I know she would never admit it. Hopefully, Sherriff Dumbass’s penchant for the spotlight will work in our favour and the publicity we get for doing his job for him will bring in more clients. I already have to return eight calls tomorrow. That can only be a good thing, right? If nothing else, it will keep me busy for the next 43 days. Instead of starting the fight we would have had if this had been 10 years ago, I’m choosing to ignore your suggestion that you or Dick invest in MI. My initial anger got lost in all the drama, but that is not an option.
> 
> I’m glad the headache is dying down. I wish I could be there taking care of you instead of that Sally chick. This sucks.
> 
> Stay safe! I love you!
> 
> ~V

 

> **From:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Date:** Sun, 12 June 2016 08:44
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Relief
> 
> There’s no good way to have a fight over email, and I don’t want to waste our phone time discussing it either, but when I get home, you and I are going to rent a cabin on an island somewhere with no means of escape and have it out about the $$ issue. Our own version of a UFC fight. Until then, I declare the subject tabled. I’m just relieved that you are managing everything for a few more months. Just one more suggestion (don’t kill me!), but have you discussed this with Mac? I’m sure you know she never would have quit her job unless she could do so safely. I’m delicately trying to navigate this friendship triangle we have going on now, so I’m just going to remind you of that website we launched in college. It was active for about 3 years and we raked in some pretty serious cash. Mac’s business plan was rock solid. She knows what she’s doing, V. Ask her to help, especially since she knows the inner workings of MI now.
> 
> Let me distract you from all that unpleasantness by focusing on this “dessert” you mentioned. Can I request a little whipped cream to go along with your chocolate sauce? Your pesky peanut allergy means we’ll have to get fancy and use chopped almonds, but then again that might cause chafing and we can’t have that. I insist on topping my Veronica sundae with a maraschino cherry, though. Yum. At this rate, my nurse is going to wonder what’s got me all worked up. I’d better stop now, because nothing is more embarrassing than having someone who looks like she could be your grandma eyeing the tent in your sheets. She’s been so pleased with my progress, too. The blinding headache has dulled to moderately cloudy now. My neck isn’t even sore anymore. See? Almost all better.
> 
> Regarding your proposal: I will see your offer of two nights in a row for three months, and raise you three nights for two months.
> 
> ~L

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Sun, 12 June 2016 10:20
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Re: Relief
> 
> I didn’t realize Mac had such good business sense. I knew she had the website thing with you, but just assumed she was tech and you handled the money. I just don’t want her living paycheck to paycheck, especially given how sporadic her paychecks have been. I’m not sure I’m ready to ask her for help, though. MI has always been just my dad and me. I’ll think on it, while I train for the cage-match island getaway you have planned.
> 
> You make sure you’re a good patient, Logan. There’s no dessert for little boys who don’t get better. Of course, if you are a good boy and you can manage a little privacy during our next phone call, I might be in a position to give you a little sampling of what your dessert could look like.
> 
> ~V

 

> **From:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Date:** Sun, 12 June 2016 14:10
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Relief
> 
> I’m trying to catch up with all your emails, and my head is still a little fuzzy, so this is probably going to come out all disjointed. Bear with me.
> 
> First, that mention of you and Lilly dancing around triggered memories that ran through my dreams all last night. Duncan and I used to get such a kick out of watching you two. You guys singing Spice Girls, drunk on the beach in your homecoming dresses is one of my favorite memories. Do you know what else is a favorite memory? Watching you drop your red dress and run into the ocean buck nekkid at junior homecoming. Yep, I saw the whole thing. Not up close, obviously, or you would have seen me. But I was lying a ways down the beach and saluted you with my bottle of Champagne. I’ve gotta say, I was impressed; I almost joined you.
> 
> Jumping from a good memory to a bad, I hate to even think of of Alterna-Prom. I tried so hard to create a night that you wouldn’t forget. I wasn’t even sure I could get you to come to the party (that I threw entirely for you, btw) but I practiced that damn speech all week. You walked in looking so beautiful, I was dumbstruck. I watched you all night and you seemed to be having a good time despite yourself. Finally, there we were. And I convinced you, I knew I did. But then you left, and I broke into a million billion pieces right there. Some of them finished a bottle of Jack, some others must have called Kendall, but all of them wanted to die when they saw you at the door the next day and realized that there was no way to recover. So those Logan pieces did what they did best; they coalesced back into the jackass I was and left me standing there at the door, heartsick to think that I put that expression on your face. I have relived that night in my mind more times than I care to admit. Thank God my fantasy ending to that speech finally happened that morning in the beach house. I’m glad we got to do it right this time; it was too good a speech to waste on that memory.
> 
> In retrospect, I have to agree that you leaving was probably the best for both of us. I would never have been able to stand without you if you had stayed. The pull was too strong. But you underestimate us, Veronica. We could have got it done in three years, and then I wouldn’t have to hear about Ryan or Jason or Piz 2.0. ;P
> 
> It’s wrong that I’m so happy that nothing happened with Piz the night of the reunion, isn’t it? But I don’t care. Poor guy didn’t even get goodbye sex. #sorrynotsorry
> 
> Head hurts. More later.
> 
> ~L

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Sun, 12 June 2016 15:14
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Re: Relief
> 
> I have no words to express my embarrassment that you saw me go skinny dipping. Thank goodness you kept that to yourself all this time because I don’t know if teenaged me would have been able to able to handle knowing it. Adult me kind of wishes you’d have joined me.
> 
> Logan, you prepared the epic speech? Like, you sat down and wrote drafts and practiced it in the mirror and then threw a big party just so you could get me there? I honestly don’t know what to say other than I loved that speech. I was always sad that the cloud of the next morning hung over it, ruining it. I am elated that we have a new and improved memory attached to it now.
> 
> As much as I would love to say I had my shit together after three years, it would be a total lie. I was still in my early twenties, and had barely decided to apply to law school. I needed a few years of seeing how boring my life could become first before being ready to come back. You know, it might have saved me the student loans if I’d just found someone to be my Clarence Odbody. Those damn guardian angels are never there when you need them.
> 
> OK, a client is here, gotta go.
> 
> ~V

> **From:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Date:** Sun, 12 June 2016 19:39
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Relief
> 
> I was hoping to catch you online. I’m so bored; everything I want to do gives me a headache. I expect you to entertain me, Mars! I guess I’m reduced to answering the rest of your letters (for as long as I can stare at a damn screen). Although I don’t know that I want to necessarily go down this road again, since you mentioned your other guys, I suppose I should recap my relationship history for you too. Fair warning, I still have PTSD from the last time we discussed our prior dating stories. I need you to try to remember that this is all HISTORY and that I have matured since college. Feel free to skip this letter entirely. In fact, I encourage you to skip this letter entirely.
> 
> ….
> 
>  
> 
> Please close it….
> 
>  
> 
> ….
> 
> Last chance…
> 
> Man, I must be an idiot for doing this. Here goes nothing.
> 
> After you left, I dated. And dated. And dated. Not the finest coping strategy, I grant you, but it shouldn’t be a surprise to you at least. Having said that, I did legitimately try and find girls who I could have an actual relationship with. I was occasionally successful, eventually, but at Hearst nothing lasted longer than a semester or so. Then the girl would either want me to meet her family over the holidays, or want to travel somewhere together for the summer. Too much, too fast.
> 
> My first “real” relationship came after I enlisted. I was in training with a girl named Jessica. She was feisty as hell and had bigger balls than most of the guys there. She had no fear. (OK, so I have a type, sue me.) Anyway, Jess and I were together for almost a year. Eventually, navigating a relationship and flight training got to be too hard. There was a fair bit of competition too, and neither of us particularly liked to lose. It got in the way. After we broke up, there was no one serious until Carrie.
> 
> Now that that’s out of the way, I’d like to respond to the question you answered about seeing the person you love kissing someone else. You’re not the only one who would have a problem with that. I acknowledge your threat, but would like to remind you that I, too, have my own skills at eliminating an opponent. The Navy teaches you a few tricks too, you know, for combat purposes. I have had plenty of time to think about this ever since I had a daily front row seat to you and Duncan. I spent many nights plotting violence in my bedroom, although he was the target, not you. So was Piz, even early on at Parker’s party. I got so shit-faced that night, trying to wipe that image from my head.
> 
> I checked out that song you mentioned. “ _I’ll love you everyday,”_ huh?
> 
> You are turning into a sap, Veronica Mars.
> 
> ~L

 

Veronica shut down Skype and closed her laptop before reaching for the towel. She began wiping away the whipped cream, only mildly annoyed at how sticky she was. It had been totally worth it to see the look on Logan’s face when the video feed connected.

_Take THAT! If that call doesn’t wipe all thoughts of rehashing our prior relationships from both our minds, then nothing will. I’ll give you feisty and no fear._

 And with what could only be called a huff, Veronica went to start the shower.

 

> **From:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Date:** Mon, 13 June 2016 13:55
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Relief
> 
> Dear Veronica,
> 
> Where are you? You were supposed to check in this morning about that job you were doing last night. You’re not supposed to make me anxious while I’m recovering in the hospital, dear. It’s bad girlfriend etiquette.
> 
> I realized that I didn’t ask if you had any news about Lianne and Hunter. I assume you’ve spoken to him since they went back to Arizona. I’m not going to tell you that I’m sure Lianne is fine. We both know the relapse rates of addicts, especially in times of stress, and you have the best Spidey sense of anyone I know. So check in with Hunter often; go visit if you have to. You’re an investigator, so investigate. If you find anything at all, we’ll get lawyers and bring him to Neptune. We’ll take care of him as best we can, Veronica. Together.
> 
> 41 days.
> 
> I love you, always.
> 
> ~L

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Mon, 13 June 2016 18:03
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Re: Relief
> 
> Dear Logan,
> 
> I’m safe and sound, no need to freak out the nurses. I had to follow a guy to LA who hasn’t been paying his childcare payments. Not for lack of funds either, because the asshole drives a Jag. He might also be a member of our State Senate, which means that were he, say, having a rendezvous with a prostitute that I somehow managed to catch on film, well, then he might be more inclined to pay his damn bills. I was out all night and just got home. I’m sorry, though, I shouldn’t have worried you like that. Next time I’ll let you know.
> 
> You must be throwing me off my game, because it didn’t occur to me to “investigate” Lianne, but I guess I could, huh? Set up some alerts on her cards, maybe take a trip down for surveillance? I try and speak to Hunter a few times a week, but it’s hard to get a straight answer from a six year old without freaking him out. He sounds OK in general, though.
> 
> Regarding the kiss with Piz, I’d just like to point out an important part of that sentence. We were at Parker’s party. That YOU threw, because she was YOUR girlfriend. You’ve got nothing to say about me kissing Piz.
> 
> ~V

 

> **From:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Date:** Mon, 13 June 2016 18:33
> 
> **To:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Subject:** Re:Relief
> 
> Retract claws, Bobcat. I know it was Parker’s party. I didn’t mean to imply that you had no right to kiss him, only that I didn’t particularly enjoy watching it happen.
> 
> I guess all of this proves that neither of us reacts very well to seeing the other with someone else. Let’s file away the perfect murder tips for some other future reason, though, shall we? Because I never intend to let you share your lips with anyone else. Either of your lips.
> 
> We still have a negotiation on the table. I await your counter offer.

 

 

> **From:** Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> **Date:** Mon, 13 June 2016 19:21
> 
> **To:** Logan Echolls<l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> **Subject:** Re: Relief
> 
> I agree to your terms: three nights for two months. It’s been a pleasure negotiating with you.
> 
> Claws retracted. :)
> 
> Stay safe! I love you!
> 
> ~V

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ELSchaaf is going through a major life event and still managed to beta like a champ! I called in a ringer to take some of the pressure off of her (I'm very high maintenance!), and BryroseA stepped up a million-fold. Thanks so much to both of them for making this chapter what it is. I admit, I'm particularly proud of this one.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep checking my mail every day for that letter from RT gifting me this wonderful universe, but alas, nothing. They still belong to him.
> 
> Sorry if the formatting looks weird. I had copy/pasting issues.

Hunkering down in a booth at Starbucks, Veronica checked the clock. She had another thirty minutes or so until Wallace was scheduled to meet her after his last class. She still couldn’t believe that he voluntarily agreed to teach summer school. Her boy loved his job, but after listening to him complain endlessly about how tired he was, she thought for sure he would opt for the summer off. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one stressing over her finances. She decided that she had enough time and opened her laptop to start an email to Logan while she waited.

 

> From: Veronica Mars <vmars@marsinvestigations.com>
> 
> Date: Mon, 20 June 2016 13:49
> 
> To: Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> Subject: Friends and family discount
> 
> Dear Logan,
> 
> I have a few minutes to start this email while having a coffee. You know me, I can’t just wait patiently while watching the world go by. Must always multitask!
> 
> **5\. Did you hang out with the person you like recently?**
> 
> I’m about to hang out with the person who I like best in the whole entire world. He’s sweet, doesn’t take my shit, and is just overall the greatest. I don’t know where I would be without him.
> 
> I’ll tell Wallace you said hi. ;)
> 
> I really hope that you guys can come to some kind of understanding when you get home. Getting him onto the VIP list at the 09er was a nice olive branch, but you are going to have to pull out all the stops with him. You know my Wallace and his loyalty and, unfortunately, right now his loyalty is to Piz. I don’t begrudge him that friendship, not at all. I just hope that mine influences him enough to give you a chance.
> 
> Logan, I know that in the past I spent a lot of time keeping you in a box, separate from my dad and my friends. I realize that I made the mountain you need to scale now for them to accept you exponentially higher and I’m sorry for that. I really do want them to get to know you—the _real_ you—the you I fell in love with. Between Mac and I, hopefully we can work on my dad and Wallace enough to kick down some of their concerns. With time, they’ll see. I know they will. Frankly, they’ll have to. Dad is already starting to come around, I think. I swear he was as anxious as anyone when you were incommunicado.

 

“Writing Logan again?” Wallace asked sullenly from behind Veronica.

Veronica turned around, one eyebrow raised. “You know, after what happened and how you supported me, I was hoping you were planning on cutting him some slack.” She shut her laptop and pushed it aside.

Wallace sat down, looking at least a little chastened. “Look, V. I’m sorry the guy got hurt, I really am. And you know I’m always there when you need me. I hated seeing you like that. But, Piz is my bro; I’m still dealing with the fallout on that side. It’s no fun being stuck in the middle like this. And Logan has never been my favorite person to begin with.”

At the mention of Piz, Veronica’s demeanor softened. “I know it’s been awkward for you, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t realize that Piz was still…so upset. I’m even sorrier for that. If you want to continue to root for him, that’s fine, but you need to understand that you won’t change my mind. This situation with Logan? It’s not going to change. He’s going to be around. Permanently. Hell, Mac was already friends with him, so he was semi-around already. You should be used to him by now.”

“Yeah, I know. But it was easier to ignore him when he wasn’t macking on my best friend. I just have to ask, V. You know I love you, and I want what’s best for you…” Veronica cut him off.

“Then don’t ask,” she said in a flat voice. “He’s not the guy you still seem to think he is. I’m not sure that he ever really was. I’m not saying that he didn’t deserve some of your hostility; he’d be the first to admit that he did. But I let you believe a lot of bad things about him that he doesn’t deserve. That’s my fault, and I’m trying to fix it. If you really do want what’s best for me, let it go. Make the effort. I would love for you to love him as much as I do, but I’m not stupid. I’ll settle for you guys not turning the room to ice when you’re forced together.”

Wallace stared at her for a long moment. “If he hurts you again…”

“…you have my permission to kick his ass if I leave enough of it intact when I’m through. But he won’t.” She scooted over on the bench and nudged him with her shoulder, smiling. “C’mon, he did get you onto the VIP list at the 09er. That has to count for something.”

Wallace smiled back, shaking his head. “It’s a start. Man, what the hell am I supposed to say to Piz? Brother keeps asking me if I think you’ve gotten it out of your system and when you’re coming home. It’s sad, V.”

“Tell him…tell him I am home.” 

 

> Ironically, Wallace interrupted me as I was answering this question. We had a little chat about you, and I think he’ll calm down now. May I suggest at least one set of Lakers tickets to help your case?
> 
> He says to tell you: Hi back.
> 
> **6\. What are you excited for?**
> 
> I’m going to try and keep this one PG-13 so as not to offend your delicate sensibilities. Saying that it’s you coming home is too predictable.
> 
> So, the next best answer is that I’m excited for the next big case. I realize that these generic cheating spouse and long lost family member cases are my bread and butter but I would really like to sink my teeth into something meatier. I know it might seem like I’m looking for something dangerous, but I’m really not. I just love the rush of finding the next clue and figuring out how it fits. It’s like putting together a puzzle when you don’t have the picture on the front of the box. I’ll also admit that I like knowing I’m the one who put it all together. My psych degree is already screaming “superhero complex” at me, you don’t have to tell me.
> 
> I’m also looking forward to just being your girlfriend again. I might never have (or want) normal all the time, but a little sprinkling of it now and again will be nice.
> 
> **9\. Is confidence cute?**
> 
> Confidence is sexy as fuck. At the risk of inflating your already super-sized ego (I’m never going to hear the end of this, especially now that it’s in writing), one of the first things I noticed about you is how confident you are now. You had always seemed (over) confident, strutting around like you owned the place (I simultaneously hated and was turned on by that strut; high-school me didn’t know what to do with that dichotomy), but with everything that you went through in high school—Lilly jerking you around, your dad, the multiple murder charges (I don’t even mean Carrie) and maybe especially me and our issues—looking back, I can see now that most of the confidence you displayed was an act. It was just easier to accept your behavior at face value, because otherwise I would have had to acknowledge my own evasion tactics. I think we both deserve Oscars for our performances.
> 
> I think my initial reaction to seeing you in the airport was not so much due to your uniform, but to how controlled, successful, and grown up you looked! Don’t get me wrong, I love the uniform (the amount of time my thoughts drift to me slowly peeling it off of you can attest to that!), but really, it’s your attitude now that’s different.
> 
> I’ve been looking up all of the insignia on your uniform and I’m beginning to get an idea of how you earned them. You need self-confidence to do all of that, and the Navy helped you find yours. For a long time, you wanted me to give it to you, but we both know that wasn’t up to me. You found it on your own, and I’m so proud of you for that. I always knew you could. I’m sorry I tried to make you do it my way instead of letting you find your own.
> 
> **16\. Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months?**
> 
> I’ve changed so much in the last five months, and yet, it feels more like rebooting to the default settings. We used to have this magnet on the fridge with the serenity prayer on it:
> 
> _God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference._
> 
> The other day, when Lianne was at the office, I heard her mutter it to herself under her breath and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since then. I tried for nine years to emulate the second step: finding the courage to change the things that I can. Problem was, I should have started with the first one: accepting the things I cannot change.
> 
> I guess its just proof that a girl can be Summa Cum Laude and still lack the wisdom to know the difference.
> 
> So now that wisdom has finally caught up with me, I need to focus on not fucking it up. I’m looking to you to provide the kick in the ass I’ll need from time to time. You’re off to a good start with the phone call that got me home.
> 
> I’m laughing here, imaging all the make up sex we’ll be having after the ass kickings, because even though I know you’re going to save this request and hang it on every available surface in the house, you’re crazy if you think it will be that easy. ☺
> 
> **21\. Are you in a good mood?**
> 
> I will be after our Skype chat later today. Who knows, there might be a surprise in it for you!
> 
> **28\. What was the last thing that made you laugh?**
> 
> Mac getting really drunk and singing that Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Bikini song at karaoke last night. I got video for you; don’t worry.
> 
> **31\. Honestly, do you hate the last boy you talked to?**
> 
> The last boy I spoke to was the barista at the café I’m sitting in, so no. He keeps me in coffee, who could hate that?
> 
> **38\. Who did you last call?**
> 
> My dad to find out what he wanted me to pick up for dinner tonight.
> 
> **43\. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush?**
> 
> Story of my life. Have I ever not? OK, here’s one that you didn’t have a front row seat for. I don’t particularly want to admit this story to you, but in the spirit of full disclosure, as promised, here goes. Remember I mentioned Jason, the douche? OK, so he was in my Intro to Ethics course in my second semester of law school. Before our Thursday class, he asked me on a date for that weekend. He seemed like a nice enough guy so I figured, what the hell. I sat right in front of him in that class and I’d been getting a kick out of listening to his running commentary to his buddies; I thought he was kind of funny. That day, I asked the professor an (admittedly stupid) question, because I just wasn’t getting something about the lesson. Right after, Jason made some snarky comment like, “And THAT’S the chick I’m going out with this weekend, everybody.” I didn’t turn around, but I’m pretty sure I heard his slow clap.
> 
> I spent the rest of the week telling myself that I heard him wrong, that it was a genuinely stupid question and that I was over reacting. On our date he was a perfect gentleman; funny, liked museums and foreign films. We dated for a couple of months before I realized that, no, he was just an asshole. NYC Veronica tried very hard to subdue her badass tendencies. I should never have put up with his crap, but at the same time it had been many years since I’d needed to be that person. I finally realized when he made one comment too many that I needed to wake her back up.
> 
> **47\. Who was the last person to call you?**
> 
> To call me what? Cute as a button? Heinous bitch? Daughter of the year? There are so many options. I miss hearing you call me Bobcat; it’s not quite the same in email. I miss earning that name.
> 
> Stay safe! I love you! 34 days!
> 
> ~V

 

> From: Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> Date: Mon, 20 June 2016 23:01
> 
> To: Veronica Mars <vmars@marsinvestigations.com>
> 
> Subject: Re: Friends and family discount
> 
> Dear Veronica,
> 
> I will have you earning your name over and over again for at least 48 hours after I get home, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.
> 
> Mace and I are back with the squad now. We got here today. Neither of us has been cleared to fly yet, but it should be less than a week or so. The headaches are almost gone, and his thumb is out of the splint. Looks like we’ll probably have one more mission before the boat heads back home. We’re almost done, babe. Just hang in there a little bit longer.
> 
> Can I just start by saying I want to beat the shit out of this Jason asshole? Why the fuck would you put up with one second of that guy’s crap? I hope when badass Veronica woke up again you erased his credit history or something. What’s his last name? I’m going to get Mac to do it again, just to make me feel better. She owes me a few favours now too.
> 
> Thanks for the inside info on Wallace. I’ll get Dick to look into getting those Lakers tickets. I’ll try and get at least four, so that you and Mac can come with us. I think we might need to ease into the male bonding rituals, for my own safety. Honestly, I hope he doesn’t think I’m trying to buy his friendship. That’s the last thing I need him believing. But it would be nice if your best friend didn’t shoot daggers at me from his eyes every time we see each other. I’ve always kind of admired Wallace, even while I was a little jealous of him. He was close to you in a way I never could be. He is also a genuinely good guy. I thought we’d come to an understanding after that jailhouse project in freshman year, but then you and I self-destructed and then Piz….well, I don’t really deserve his good opinion, I guess. I’d still like to earn it one day, though.
> 
> You brought up changing in the next few months. Calling you to dig me out of my latest hole is proof that I’m still that guy who can’t escape the shit-storm. Wallace isn’t totally wrong to be concerned. I’m going to have to change in order to earn my spot beside you. Don’t worry, I know.
> 
> At least Mac likes me and you said your dad was coming around too, right? So maybe you letting me out of that box you stuffed me into won’t be all bad? Should I play up the injury a little when I get home, keep everyone’s sympathy up?
> 
> Mace is screaming at me to let him get his turn on the computer, so I need to go now. 34 days and counting.
> 
> I love you. Always.
> 
> ~L

 

> From: Veronica Mars <vmars@marsinvestigations.com>
> 
> Date: Tues, 21 June 2016 06:10
> 
> To: Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> Subject: Re: Friends and family discount
> 
> One thing I’ve come to rely on is Wallace’s huge heart. Logan, he will come around, you just need to give him time. And maybe two or three consecutive months of drama free life. He’s bound to be a little biased, since he’s the one who had to put me back together every time we fell apart. A few months of him seeing how much you’re not the person he’s been imagining and you’ll be good. He also knows better than to assume you’re buying his friendship, dork. Besides, I wanted those tickets too!
> 
> Your friendship with Mac just makes it all easier. Truth be told, I’m pretty sure she’s been campaigning for you from the get go, in her subtle Mac-Attack way. She never said anything overtly one way or the other, but after I got back together with Piz, I didn’t get the impression that she took us all that seriously. Your name also came up more often in the last year or so. I realize you don’t run in the same circles, but I assume she knew a bit of what was going on with Carrie? She’s clever, our Mac, so I’m beginning to think there might have been some maneuvering going on behind the scenes.
> 
> I see many dinner parties and beach BBQs surrounded by our friends in our future. I have no intention of hiding you away. In fact, I was emailing my friend Jeannie a few days ago, telling her all about my Navy hero. I think I mentioned her? She was probably my closest NYC friend, but she just got a job in LA, so it looks like you might get to meet her sooner rather than later. When we go back to visit NYC, you’ll get to meet the others who are still around there.
> 
> What about you? I can expect to meet Mace, I assume? Is there a Mrs. Mace? Macelings? I’d like to thank Rob in person for sending me that email too, if at all possible. I guess I’ll also have to get used to Dick’s presence (as long as he keeps his special brownies away from me).
> 
> You don’t need to earn anything when you get back, Logan. Your spot is ready and waiting. I love you just the way you are, the man that you have already become, flavoured with hints of the boy you were.
> 
> 33 days.
> 
> Love you.
> 
> ~V

 

> From: Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> Date: Wed, 22 June 2016 01:56
> 
> To: Veronica Mars <vmars@marsinvestigations.com>
> 
> Subject: Re: Friends and family discount
> 
> I’m glad you've got the fever for the flavour of a Logan. I put in an order of pineapple just for you, baby. ;P
> 
> I’m looking forward to you meeting Mace and Bubbles and some of the other guys. Yes, there’s a Mrs. Mace. Well, a Mrs. Mace-to-be. They’re getting married about a month after we get home. I’m his best man actually, so don’t plan anything for August 28th. Since I live not too far from the base, most of the guys live nearby. I hope you like them, because they’re around a lot. I’ve got the biggest TV, you see.
> 
> As for Mac, I’m pretty sure you’re right. Yeah, she knew about Carrie. She was my sounding board most of the time since she wasn’t part of the group and she helped me keep things in perspective. My mind is a little foggy from those first few days after Carrie died, but I’m pretty sure she’s the one who gave me the idea to call you asking for help. She really is sneaky, isn’t she?
> 
> I know I joked with you when I picked you up from the airport that we were falling back into our old rhythms, but I don’t want to. Our old rhythms didn’t work. I want new rhythms; ones that can sound good solo, but that when used in a duet with yours make a symphony.
> 
> I appreciate your tolerance of Dick. I know he’s a bit much, and he hasn’t evolved one iota since, well, puberty, but we’re the closest thing either of us have to family. I should tell you something about Dick, though. A little while after you left, he was having a really rough time (Still? Again?), and railing at me about…I don’t even know how to bring this up with you. Do I use his name? Do I just say “that night”? Whatever, you get it. Dick was screaming at me, throwing things, and he wasn’t even drunk or high, just…it was bad. The two of us threw down, destroyed the damn hotel room (got us kicked out finally, hence his beach house). When we were done, there was just this understanding that, no matter what, we’d always be there for each other. I got him some help, they gave him some meds, he got “better”. But he’s still Dick. At least he’s cut out most of the hard stuff since our fight and what happened on the boat. We had a conversation once after one of his therapy sessions. I think his shrink encouraged him to read some of the news stories or something, but he knew about Shelley’s party somehow. He told me he remembered that night and asked me if I knew what happened. He cried, V. I think he legitimately got the impact of his part in that whole mess, and he begged me to beat the shit out of him again. I told him that I already had, and that it wasn’t me he had to face. You can do with that what you want, but I felt like you should know.
> 
> One more down: 32 days.
> 
> ~L

 

> From: Veronica Mars <vmars@marsinvestigations.com>
> 
> Date: Wed, 22 June 2016 08:02
> 
> To: Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> Subject: Re: Friends and family discount
> 
> I had to look up that pineapple reference. I’m looking forward to the benefits.
> 
> Mac and I are going to have a little talk today I think.
> 
> I don’t know what to do with what you said about Dick. I can’t process it right now.
> 
> I love you.
> 
> ~V

 

Veronica hit send on her message and sat for a minute staring at the screen, her mind replaying the events that happened over twelve years ago. Somewhere, under all of the other emotions, she was frustrated that she kept having to deal with it all again. The academic part of her brain told her that she’d be dealing with it for the rest of her life, but the human part was just tired of it.

After she showered and dressed, Veronica headed to the office hoping to distract herself with a good old-fashioned thumbscrewing, but Mac wasn’t cooperating. Veronica was sure she was right, that Mac had covertly played a significant role in the recent events of Veronica’s life, but she was clearly out of practice in her interrogation techniques. Either that or Mac was developing an immunity to her questions. Regardless, the latent frustration Veronica was experiencing was in no way alleviated by the exercise. She decided to head down to the one place that was able to calm her mind these days: the beach.

The spot next to the cliffs was deserted when she got there, so she settled in for some serious brooding. She spent the next few hours alternately picturing Logan on his boat in the distant horizon, imagining him walking out of the ocean carrying his surfboard looking delicious in his wetsuit, and replaying the lessons she learned from her therapy sessions.

Eventually, the peace that she was seeking settled over her, as she knew it would. She closed her eyes briefly, imagining that it was Logan’s hands ghosting over her face, brushing a kiss on her forehead, and not just the breeze coming in from the water. She returned home to find his message, and smiled softly at the computer before starting her reply. 

 

> From: Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> Date: Wed, 22 June 2016 09:34
> 
> To: Veronica Mars <vmars@marsinvestigations.com>
> 
> Subject: Re: Friends and family discount
> 
> I love you.
> 
> Always.
> 
> Even if it means keeping you separate from Dick.

 

> From: Veronica Mars <vmars@marsinvestigations.com>
> 
> Date: Wed, 22 June 2016 22:29
> 
> To: Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> Subject: Re: Friends and family discount
> 
> Is it weird that I think of that spot on the beach as our spot, even if we’ve never technically been there together? I spent most of the afternoon there after I was done using my best interrogation techniques on Mac. She’s a strong one, though; I took over an hour to break her, and even then all I got was an exasperated, “Why do you care, Bond? It worked didn’t it?” Couldn’t really argue with her logic, so I left and went to the beach.
> 
> I don’t think I’ll ever really get over what happened to me. I’ve adjusted and put it behind me, and learned to live with it packed away into a corner of my brain. During my brief time with a shrink, one of the things that I did take away was that ultimately, Dick is a dick, but he didn’t do it. And neither did Madison. And neither did you or Shelley Pomroy or Luke or Sean. There are only two people responsible for what happened, Duncan and Beaver. Period. I’m angry that the rest happened--I probably always will be if I think about it. But I’m tired of being angry, so I choose instead to let it go. There was a whole house full of people who could have done something differently, but didn’t. It does no good to hate everyone, as much as my inner vengeance demon wants to.
> 
> Dick can stay. I’ll try and behave if he will.
> 
> I love you too.
> 
> ~V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BryroseA has filled in on beta duties again for this chapter, and I am eternally grateful for her constructive criticism and positive feedback.
> 
> Small bit o' trivia: That Jason story? Inspired by RL.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KB said she wants us to decide how we want our VM, which means it's partly mine, right? Right? Sigh...Rob owns my soul, and named it Logan Echolls.

 

> From: Veronica Mars <vmars@marsinvestigations.com>  
>  Date: Tues, 5 July 2016 11:09  
>  To: Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>  
>  Subject: Random thoughts of the day
> 
> Dear Logan,
> 
> Today feels like the longest day ever, and it’s not even lunchtime. I swear, the closer we get to day 0, the slower the days get. I’m finally busy with casework. In fact, I’m so busy that I’m not sure how I’m going to get everything done, yet still the hours just crawl by. Thank God we’ve only got 19 more days to go. Less than three weeks. We need to start working out the details of how I come and meet you when you dock. It’s still July 23rd, right? Keep in mind that the only acceptable answers to this question are A) Yes; or B) no, actually it will be earlier than that. I vote for B.
> 
> **40\. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed?**  
>  To make sure that, while you are stuck on that tin can with all of those sailors (mmm….sailors….excuse me a minute ;P), you don’t get any ideas, bucko. I’m joking, Logan! My kiss was to tell you, while I still couldn’t with words, that I love you and that I am here waiting for you.
> 
> **42\. If you could, would you take back your last kiss?**  
>  Only if it meant that you wouldn’t leave.
> 
> **45\. Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today?**  
>  Ummm, yeah. My mom, actually. She’s back in town overnight with Hunter and she stopped by to discuss some things about her case with my dad. I don’t think seeing them together in the same room will ever get normal. I also still don’t know if I’m handling things right with Hunter. I will do everything I can to make sure he comes out OK in all this, obviously, but I don’t know if I’m doing the sister thing properly. Lianne seems to be doing better overall—she seemed clear-headed but exhausted when she came today –but I keep looking for signs of a relapse every time we interact. I wound up setting up some alerts on her accounts; I guess I’m looking for bar tabs or liquor store purchases. I just don’t know if I’ll every really trust her again. I wish you could be here to see her and to give me some perspective. I can’t talk to my dad about this, even though I know he would let me. He’s too affected by all the history. I need someone who has some distance from her, but who understands. I need you.
> 
> There is one thing that has always bugged me, Logan. This is hard to bring up, and I’m not sure if we should rehash this. I’m not even mad anymore, really. I just never understood how you were able to throw my mother’s drinking in my face when you were living with the same thing at home. I know you were looking for a bullet that would hurt, but did it have to be that one?
> 
> **46\. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night?**  
>  Since we weren’t able to speak, I listened to your inspirational voicemail message a few times. And then maybe I stared at that last picture you sent me for a while, conjuring up all sorts of images of how you ended up half dressed with your pants hung so low…you are seriously trying to kill me, btw. We need to revisit that look when you get home and I can enjoy it first hand, right after sexy times in that uniform of yours. Holy hotness, Batman!
> 
> **53\. Is Christmas stressful?**  
>  Only for the elves. Christmas is the most wonderful day of the year!!!! (Especially when I eventually get that pony).
> 
> I already loved Christmas, and didn’t think that I could love it any more until I lived in NYC. Christmas in that city is like a whole other experience; the tree at Rockefeller Center; skating in snow-covered Central Park; garlands and wreathes on 5th Avenue; the window displays at Macy’s; lights everywhere. It’s like a perfect postcard. Clichéd, but glorious. All right, that settles it! We need to plan a visit to NYC just before Christmas. I’ll start calling around to see who will be in town. I can’t wait to show you everything and I can’t wait for you to meet everyone.
> 
> I remember the Christmas after my mom left and Dad and I moved into our apartment. That was probably the worst holiday I’d ever spent. We tried so hard to keep up appearances, pretending we were filled with holiday spirit. Fake it till you make it, right? But my mom used to decorate the house, and then we’d bake cookies. Lilly would come over to help but we’d end up wasting most of the flour throwing it at each other. It was also the first Christmas that the four of us didn’t do _our_ thing. No exchanging presents at midnight on the beach with twinkle lights and the blow up palm tree. I used to love that; it was one of my favorite traditions. I had even found these great boxers for you and Duncan with Rudolphs on them. You know me; Christmas shopping was a year round exercise. I couldn’t wait to see your faces when you both realized you had matching underwear. I’m sad you never got those. So yeah, that Christmas was stressful. It got easier as the years went by, though. I found this little blow up palm tree that I still set up every year as my tribute to those midnight beach Christmases.
> 
> **57\. Do you believe in ghosts?**  
>  You’re going to think I’m crazy--I must be for even admitting this--but I do. When the bus crashed our senior year, I wasn’t on it because I was following Lilly. I know, whacko, right? But I swear I saw her going around the side of the gas station where we’d stopped. When I followed, I found Weevil who distracted me until after the bus left without me. There were a couple of other times when I thought I saw her as well. Duncan also told me once about this time Lilly showed up in his living room, giving him shit for not seeing what was right in front of him. When he told me, he chalked it up to not taking his meds, but I don’t believe it. I really do think she was there, is still here, watching over us in all of her fabulous glory.
> 
> **37\. Do you believe in love at first sight?**  
>  You’re the girl in this relationship, not me, darlin’. I’m not that romantic. This question does remind me of the Truth or Dare game from our homecoming limo-party, though. Remember when Lilly asked you what you thought of me the first time we met? I was so embarrassed (and secretly pleased) by your answer but boy am I glad no one ever asked me what I thought of you. I don’t think I could ever have lived that down, or even told the truth with Duncan sitting there listening. I had such a huge crush on you when you first moved to town. I spent months trying to surreptitiously get info out of Lilly about you. I guess all the focus on you backfired though, because I soon realized that she had a thing for you too. I, of course, backed off like the good little BFF that I was. She used to gush over and over about how great it would be when she started dating you and I started dating Duncan. I think Lilly knew that I liked you (with all of my questions, there was no way she didn’t), but if I had dated you, then our foursome would have left her and Duncan single, and I don’t think that fit her plan for us to be the perfect Fab Four. So she convinced me that Duncan liked me, and that you were way too wild for my parents to ever agree to let me date you, and she got her way, like always. So maybe I do believe in love at first sight after all?
> 
> My head is like a damn slide show at the moment with all of these memories of Lilly. Betrayal. That is what I feel when I look beyond the happy memories of Christmas cookies and limo parties. I loved Lilly. I love that she was wild, and carefree and fabulous, but I assumed at the time that there was a limit somewhere. I mean, everyone has a limit somewhere, right? But Lilly really didn’t have a limit, did she? What she did to you was so awful, Logan. I realize that even more so now that I know that she knew about Aaron. I can’t love her for that. Had she lived, had I found out her secret, I don’t think that even innocent me would have ever looked at her the same way again. Would I have ended up hating who she was becoming?
> 
> So now, when I look back on Lilly, how am I supposed to feel? How can I reconcile all of this?
> 
> Oy vey! Listen to me ramble. Thanks for tuning in to this episode of _Veronica Mars: This is Your Fucked Up Life_.
> 
>  

Veronica looked away from her screen, eyes distant. She had emailed Logan as an excuse to take a break from her mountain of work, but now she felt off; restless. Keith’s eyes glanced up almost imperceptibly from the file he was reading.

“Everything alright?” he asked, raising an eyebrow but not looking up from the file.

“I’m just not feeling it anymore today.” Veronica pulled her gaze back to the present and faced her father.

“Did something happen with Logan? Is he having more side effects from the concussion?” Keith’s questions were full of concern.

Veronica smirked at her father. “No, he’s fine. Are you actually worried about him? You big, old softy!”

“Be quiet, woman! How dare you say I’m old! I’m just gently-used, that’s all. And there’s no worry here. Nope, not at all! I, uh, …”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep trying to come up with something, Dad. I know that you’re caving.” Despite her teasing tone, Veronica was thrilled that her dad seemed to finally be coming around regarding Logan.

“Look honey, I can’t deny that Logan has grown up and matured into an apparently respectable adult. I’ve already admitted that I was wrong about Carrie’s murder. He’s also put a permanent smile on your face and a softness in your eyes pretty consistently since you’ve been home. I’m nothing if not fair. But that doesn’t change the fact that I want to sit down and have a talk with him when he gets home. Maybe polish my rifle in front of him a little bit.” His eyes were glinting with suppressed glee at that last thought.

“Ha!” Veronica giggled at the image. “You guys can clean your guns together! Maybe start a gun-polishing club?” She got a disgusted look on her face and shuddered a little when she realized what that sounded like. “Never mind, I didn’t say that. Ick.”

“Hmmph!” Keith shifted in his seat. “Well, yes, I guess the effect isn’t nearly as scary when the guy has a gun of his own.”

“I’ll tell him to act properly intimidated, Daddy, just for you.” She was pretty sure Logan wouldn’t be acting, anyway. He was desperate for Keith’s approval.

“So what has you so distracted, then?”

“My brain decided to revert back into drama-tween mode. I can’t focus.“

“Que?”

Veronica looked down at her hands, unwilling to look her father in the eye. “Do you think that if Lilly had lived we’d still be friends?”

Keith sat back in his chair, grimacing slightly at the change in position. He considered his answer for a long moment before speaking. “I think you and she were very different people. She was good for you, in some ways, brought you out of your shell. You were good for her, too. You tempered her more…um, wild tendencies.” She could see that Keith was trying to be diplomatic in his response.

“You don’t need to be so careful, Dad. She was completely shameless and irresponsible. I can admit that now, after all this time. But she was extraordinary too, you know? It’s just, what she did with Aaron….I _still_ don’t know what to do with that. I was just emailing Logan about it, and now I’m- Gah!“ Veronica cut herself off, jumping up and beginning to pace.

Keith sighed watching his daughter get all worked up. “Veronica, honey, you need to relax. It happened a lifetime ago. Lilly’s gone. Why harp on what might have been?”

Veronica tried to figure out where to start. She certainly wasn’t going to tell him about the meme and all the emails over the last five months. Finally, she went for her standard vague, just-enough-info answer. “A few memories of her came up in the email I was writing to Logan. It started me thinking, wondering what would have happened if-“ If what? If Lilly had lived? If Veronica had known Lilly’s secret in time to do anything about it?

“Look, sweetheart, the truth is, Aaron took advantage of a needy sixteen year old girl, and that should never happen to any child. But it’s also hard to deny Lilly‘s part in it all; the fact that she chose Aaron of all people, considering Logan. Well, it’s understandable how you can find that lack of judgment unforgivable. Had I known about it back then, as a parent I would have encouraged you to distance yourself from her. Her behavior was unacceptable, and you were--are--better than that. I think she ultimately would have ended up disappointing you, and you would have gotten hurt. But I also think that her friendship with you and the memories that you created were real, and you are allowed to love her for them. You don’t have to approve of everything she did in order to love her. Nor do you need to white-wash everything she did in your mind. Both can exist. Just enjoy the good memories while acknowledging her faults.”

Veronica let what her father said sink in. She nodded and sat back down at her desk, returning to her email. “Thanks Daddy.”

“Anytime, kiddo.”

Veronica turned to the next question and took a deep breath, happy to lighten the tone of her email after all the heavy talk.

 

 

> **72\. Ever won a spelling bee?**  
>  What kind of question is this? Do they still have those? C-H-R-Y-S-A-N-T-H-E-M-U-M. There, I win.
> 
> **74\. What is your favorite book?**  
>  It depends if we’re talking beach-y paperback or literature. Paperback:  The Alienist by Caleb Carr. Literature: Middlemarch by George Elliot.
> 
> **76\. Regularly burn incense?**  
>  I’m not Dick.
> 
> **83\. Can you swim well?**  
>  Just call me Michael Phelps.
> 
> **84\. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose?**  
>  Surprisingly, no.
> 
> **85\. Are you patient?**  
>  I would be the most patient person in the entire universe if only everyone would just hurry the fuck up!
> 
> You all joke about me being a superhero, but seriously, after surviving these last few months, I will totally accept that label now. There were times when I didn’t think I’d make it. I don’t want you to panic, I was never going anywhere (I told you, I don’t do that anymore), but recently I have briefly considered using my aforementioned Michael Phelps skillz to swim out and find you.
> 
> **87\. Ever won a contest?**  
>  Here’s another thing you probably don’t know--and I have you to thank for this, in a way--I’ve decided enter a photography contest. I don’t want the grim side of this job to affect me as badly this time around as it did last time. I’m going to be taking hundreds of money shots, but I intend to balance that out by trying to get some personal shots too. One day, just before you left, when you were surfing with Dick, I took a series of pictures of you off in the distance on your board. You make an excellent subject. Not to mention the “pleasure” I had spending hours editing sexy pictures of you. I submitted a few to this local photography group after I saw one of their flyers. I haven’t won or anything, but they’re displaying all the entries in this little gallery in San Diego. I think the show is still on when you get back. I’d like to take you.
> 
> Stay safe! I love you!  
>  ~V

 

 

> From: Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>  
>  Date: Wed, 6 July 2016 04:49  
>  To: Veronica Mars <vmars@marsinvestigations.com>  
>  Subject: Re: Random thoughts of the day
> 
> Dear Veronica,
> 
> I just got back from flying my last mission for this deployment. That’s it, babe. We start home tomorrow or Friday. It was great to be able to get back up there once more before we were done, especially for a night flight. The headaches are completely gone now, btw. The medic would never have cleared me otherwise.
> 
> Yes, day 0 is still July 23rd, sorry. It takes forever to move this hulking tub, so we’ll need the last few weeks to get her home. I won’t be docking with the others; I’m going to be flying in to the base. You seriously want to come? Really? It’s all cupcake costumed wives and girlfriends, kids running wild, flags waving and socializing with strangers. Not really something in your realm of fun. Don’t worry about it; I don’t expect you to put yourself through all that. I’ll catch a cab and meet you at the hotel, where I hope you will be waiting wearing absolutely nothing. Or ice cream and chocolate sauce. Either one, I’m easy.
> 
> Maybe after, say, a week in that hotel room, we’ll be ready to come up for air and you can take me to see that show. I’ve always loved your pictures. I’m really happy that you feel inspired to start taking actual pictures again.
> 
> A-N-T-I-D-I-S-E-S-T-A-B-L-I-S-H-M-E-N-T-A-R-I-A-N-I-S-M. Pretty sure I won, dear.
> 
> I completely believe you when you say that you saw Lilly. I saw her too, many times. It was almost exclusively when I was drunk off my ass in the year right after she died. She gave me such a hard time for the way I was treating you. I don’t think she ever yelled at me as hard when she was alive as she did after she was dead. I remember the day of the bus crash very well. When I realized that the radio was talking about the bus that you were on, I sunk to the ground where I stood and went almost catatonic. Lilly came to me then saying you were OK. I couldn’t figure out how that was possible, but it was enough to pull me out of it long enough to realize that Dick was calling me to tell me what happened.
> 
> You talked about that first Christmas, and I remember seeing her on that night when we all should have been together. She was talking about how you needed me, and I how I had to understand that you were in trouble and needed help and some other vague shit that I now understand to mean Shelley’s party. But I was just as angry at her as I was at you, so obviously I ignored her until that afternoon we kissed at the Camelot. I was awake in the middle of the night, stone cold sober and trying to figure out what the fuck had just happened. She appeared sitting on the corner of my desk with this shit-eating grin and said “Finally! Don’t fuck this up, Jackass.” I’m pretty sure she’s sitting down there somewhere (cuz she sure as hell isn’t sitting up in heaven with angels wings) looking up at us, cheering us on.
> 
> I missed you that Christmas too. I can’t wait to see NYC with you. Those boxers you mentioned, they were from you? I got them, V. Duncan found them in a box in Lilly’s closet when he was cleaning out her room. We didn’t know they were from you, but we wore them those first few years on the anniversary of the night we were supposed to meet at the beach. I wore them every year until they fell apart.
> 
> I choose to remember the good memories about Lilly, although Lord knows there are enough bad ones to drown in. If I let myself hate her, I easily could. I do, sometimes. But on the whole, I’d rather not.
> 
> I‘m here for whatever you need with Lianne. When I get home, let’s plan a surveillance trip together. We’ll figure out if something is going on. Between the two of us, we have enough experience to call shenanigans on whatever bullshit she might be trying to cover up.
> 
> I don’t know what to say about my using your mom’s drinking to attack you. I had first hand experience of how much it hurt, so I knew exactly how much damage I was doing by throwing it in your face. I have no excuse. Forgive me.
> 
> I’ve pretty much stopped drinking, you know. I told you in an earlier email about the tequila, but in reality, I rarely have more than a single scotch or a couple of beers in one sitting. After watching my mom and then Dick, I started to get scared that it would just get worse for me. Once I found my focus in OCS, I couldn’t stand how obnoxious I was when I was drunk, so I cut back. It’s pretty easy when you’re stuck on a boat and your CO is watching that you don’t exceed your one bottle limit. And then with Carrie, well, I may never have done AA, but I tried my damnedest to be a good sponsor. I’m just sorry it wasn’t what she needed.
> 
> I promised myself a long time ago that I would never be that person again who depends on drugs and alcohol to get through life. If I’m grateful to the Navy for one thing, it’s that.
> 
> 18 days.  
>  I love you. Always.  
>  ~L

 

 

> From: Veronica Mars <vmars@marsinvestigations.com>  
>  Date: Wed, 6 July 2016 08:27  
>  To: Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>  
>  Subject: Re: Random thoughts of the day
> 
> I honestly shouldn’t have brought up that question about my mom, Logan. I’ve taken some pretty painful shots at you, too, none of which I’m proud of. It’s forgotten.
> 
> I did notice that you weren’t drinking so much anymore; barely a bottle of wine with dinner. I don’t know that it’s my place to say this, but I’m proud of you. You truly have turned your life around in the most important ways.
> 
> I can’t believe that you wore those boxers all these years. I guess Lilly will always be complicated for both of us, won’t she? You’re right, though. She is most certainly cheering us on.
> 
> We’re going to be holed up in that hotel for a week? I’d better tell Dick to postpone that kegger he’s planning for you. Darn, I’m so disappointed. :/
> 
> Ice cream and chocolate sauce are more fun when you are applying them. Of course I want to be there when you land, silly. Just tell me how.
> 
> ~V

 

> From: Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>  
>  Date: Thurs, 7 July 2016 10:17  
>  To: Veronica Mars <vmars@marsinvestigations.com>  
>  Subject: Re: Random thoughts of the day
> 
> It’s really OK, Veronica. I completely understand you not being there. I just booked the Hilton for us. It’s the closest five star hotel to the base. Your name is on the reservation, so you shouldn’t have a problem checking us in.
> 
> ~L

 

Veronica threw her hands up in the air in exasperation.

“Everything OK in there?” Mac called from the other room.

Veronica got up and peaked around the doorframe. “Yeah, Logan’s being an ass. He’s trying to convince me not to come and meet him at the base when he lands. Idiot!”

“Why wouldn’t you want to meet him?” Mac asked in bewilderment.

“Because he’s scared I’ll change my mind at the last minute and won’t show up. Either that or he thinks that I’ll scare all the other wives and girlfriends away with my sunny disposition.”

Mac barked a laugh in response. “Be sure to wear your butch boots and jean mini-skirt. Throw in some sassy pig-tails and your leather jacket. They’ll all be running for the hills! I’ve seen some pictures of the ladies at those events. They won’t know what to do with you.”

Veronica rubbed her hands together menacingly and went back to her computer to send her reply.

 

 

> From: Veronica Mars <vmars@marsinvestigations.com>  
>  Date: Thurs, 7 July 2016 12:48  
>  To: Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>  
>  Subject: Re: Random thoughts of the day
> 
> Why are you being so difficult about this? Just give me the damn information, idiot. I’m coming, so deal with it.
> 
> Besides, do you think I’d pass up the opportunity to see you fly? And I want a personal image of you in that flight suit, mister. All very good reasons for me to be there.

 

 

> From: Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>  
>  Date: Thurs, 7 July 2016 16:09  
>  To: Veronica Mars <vmars@marsinvestigations.com>  
>  Subject: Re: Random thoughts of the day
> 
> Difficult? Moi? Would you like me to put some effort in so you can upgrade me to impossible? ;P OK, fine. You asked for it. But don’t come complaining to me when you get overwhelmed by the sheer number of pearls and sundresses. It’s like the 1950s reincarnate; June Cleavers as far as the eye can see.
> 
> Now that you’ve insisted, I will admit that I’m kind of happy you’re coming, though. I’ve never had anyone come to meet me before. I guess it’s my turn to get the hero’s welcome.

 

 

> From: Veronica Mars <vmars@marsinvestigations.com>  
>  Date: Thurs, 7 July 2016 20:22  
>  To: Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>  
>  Subject: Re: Random thoughts of the day
> 
> You’ve always been my hero.

 

 

> From: Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>  
>  Date: Fri, 8 July 2016 05:48  
>  To: Veronica Mars <vmars@marsinvestigations.com>  
>  Subject: Re: Random thoughts of the day
> 
> You continue to be mine.

 

 

> From: Veronica Mars <vmars@marsinvestigations.com>  
>  Date: Fri, 8 July 2016 10:01  
>  To: Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>  
>  Subject: Re: Random thoughts of the day
> 
> We can't all be heroes. Somebody has to sit on the sidelines and clap as you go by. My cherry blossom dress is all picked out and my pearls are shined. I’m all ready to welcome my Navy hero back home. 16 days,
> 
> Come back to me.  
>  ~V

 

 

> From: Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>  
>  Date: Fri, 8 July 2016 13:12  
>  To: Veronica Mars <vmars@marsinvestigations.com>  
>  Subject: Re: Random thoughts of the day
> 
> Always.  
>  ~L

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @BryroseA beta'ed the heck out of this chapter, thank goodness! I am eternally grateful for her tips and compliments and criticisms. And thanks again to all of you for your kind comments.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Logan x Veronica Appreciation Week, but I would like to take the time to thank RT for providing us with these wonderful characters to begin with. Please don't sue me, Rob.
> 
> This is it, folks! The end, but for an epilogue. I'll gush in the end notes, but a huge thanks for all the support.

_Two hours forty-six minutes and twelve seconds… Eleven… Ten…_

Veronica sat on the balcony of the hotel room staring at the horizon; her eyes locked on the barely visible outline of the Naval base. She had to leave in just two hours, and then forty-six minutes later he would be there with her. Finally.

Sipping her coffee, Veronica contemplated the last six months. It was hard to believe how things had changed, how _she_ had changed. When she had raced after him as he was leaving on the night her father was attacked, she hadn’t really considered the repercussions of her actions. All she knew was that once again, just as her world was on the brink of collapse, there he was rushing in to save it. A few more seconds, or a misplaced inch, and she would have lost both her father and Logan in one fell swoop. All of her reasons for staying away just didn’t matter anymore and in her desperation to prevent his departure, she had fallen down the rabbit hole headfirst –no, heartfirst. In the two weeks following that night, she hadn’t let herself think about how they were going to work. She’d simply enjoyed the time they had together, getting to know each other again. Not just physically, although she was happy to realize that that part had only gotten better (how was that even possible?), but also as the people they had grown into.

When he’d left and she found herself with endless amounts of time to live in her head again, it was then that the old doubts came creeping back. Could they really make it work this time? Could they legitimately be in a healthy relationship? Because if not, she knew as well as he did that if they couldn’t make it now, they would never be able to. She was under no illusions about herself anymore. She needed him, needed him like she had never willingly admitted before, and in order to keep him she had to let go, free fall and trust that he’d catch her. She had felt silly suggesting the meme but the result was so successful she sometimes had to reassure herself that it was all really working.

Now, though, he was coming home. He’d actually be there to talk to—deal with—coexist with—what if it was all just an illusion? What if they needed the distance and email to be able to discuss anything seriously? What the hell kind of relationship was that?

The laptop was next to her on the table, email open. She had started the letter a few days before, but got so busy finalizing everything for Logan’s return that it had sat unfinished in her Drafts folder. Veronica found herself kind of sad that she wouldn’t be able to get to all the questions on that meme. It seemed kind of pointless to finish it, now that he was going to be right in front of her. Still, she thought back through all of the topics that they covered and was forced to concede that there was one set of important questions that she’d put off for too long.

_What the hell, Mars. Might as well send one last set for good luck. Besides, he deserves to see this one. You promised, and you need to keep these promises now._

She had to believe that they could do this face to face. They’d had six months of emails to practice, and now it was time for the main event. She didn’t see any way they could possibly be better prepared.

_Two hours forty-two minutes and twenty-three seconds._

She closed her eyes and tried to temper the nervous energy that she hadn’t been able to turn off all morning. Failing, she began to type.

 

> From: Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> Date: Sat, 23 July 2016 11:33
> 
> To: Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> Subject: Welcome home!
> 
> Dear Logan,
> 
> I’m sitting in our hotel room waiting to go and meet you. T-minus two and a half hours. I’m all dressed up in the requisite cupcake dress (in the correct colours, courtesy of Mace’s fiancée’s email full o’ tips), snickerdoodles are made (seriously Logan, the Navy makes you do a potluck? They can’t spring for beer and chips?), and ice cream is chilling in the mini-freezer. All systems are go (and I do mean ALL, lover!).
> 
> Even though you’re almost home and you will only get this email after I’ve let you up for air (sometime in about 3-5 days), I decided to send one last set of meme Q&As. I answered most of these days ago, but really wanted to get to some subjects I’ve put off for far too long. I hope you’re sitting down because I’m kind of serious in this one, babe. Don’t worry, I’m sure when we actually discuss these issues live I’ll be full of snark and evasive quips but right now I just want to make sure that I’m crystal clear so that there’s no misunderstandings.
> 
> **2\. You talked to an ex today, correct?**
> 
> Correct. Now _I_ know we didn’t Skype today, and _you_ know we didn’t Skype today, so that means….who did I speak to? ;P
> 
> Wasn’t Troy. Wasn’t Ryan. Wasn’t Jason. Wasn’t Piz. Certainly wasn’t Duncan. SO? Any guesses? Do you even remember who’s left?
> 
> Yes, it was Deputy Leo. Now, now, don’t get that look on your face. He did me a solid on your case, and I had a couple of questions for him about this case I’m working on now. I needed advice about organized crime, and he helped me out.
> 
> Man, I’m trying to dig myself out of one hole and instead I bury myself in an avalanche (but as promised, I won’t delete that last bit so that you are fully informed). Yes, I’m being careful. No, I won’t do anything stupid. I would never do anything that would jeopardize me (us!) that way, not any more. I’m waiting for you here in one piece, as promised. You promised me always, and I promise you the same.
> 
> **4\. Best room for a fireplace?**
> 
> Our bathroom. Picture it: Natural stone surrounding the hearth, inset into a wall with windows on either side. The windows would look out over the ocean from high up on a cliff. Right in front of the fireplace we’d have a giant claw foot tub, deep enough to allow all six feet of you to soak in water up to your chin and wide enough to hold us both, with a little extra maneuvering room, too. ;)
> 
> **11\. Is trust a big issue for you?**
> 
> Back in the yellow cotton dress days, you could have looked naïve up in the dictionary and you would have found my picture. I didn’t trust blindly, exactly (I was dealing with my mom’s issues, after all), but I certainly wasn’t what you would call “worldly.” I trusted the people I let get close to me. Why not? Why would they lie?
> 
> And then Lilly died, and everything I believed in, everything I knew to be the truth, evaporated. Working for my dad, seeing the treachery and the seediness did nothing to disabuse me of my new reality.
> 
> I’m going to acknowledge the white elephant this one last time, and then I want to bury it firmly at the bottom of the Pacific. I elected to pay money for a psych degree to figure out my crap instead of paying for some quack’s new BMW, and in doing so I came to some conclusions.
> 
> In those awful years when you…hated me, deep down I understood. I knew exactly where that hatred was coming from and why. I was just as angry and confused, just as lonely. It hurt anyway, but it made you predictable, and it made you an easy and willing target to aim my own bullets at.
> 
> It was when you changed back into pre-drama Logan, that’s when I couldn’t handle you anymore. Suddenly, instead of insulting me, you were protecting me. Instead of breaking my headlights, you were lending me your penknife to fix my radiator hose. It was a complete 180 right out of nowhere and it felt like I’d been hit in the face with the emotional equivalent of a cast-iron pan.
> 
> But it wasn’t really out of nowhere, was it? I think I’ve managed to pin down the start to Lilly’s memorial, don’t you think? After that, you still harassed me, but the bite was gone. And I swore that when we played poker that Christmas I saw a grudging admiration in your eyes. I was simultaneously so grateful that you seemed to be finding your way back into my life and too scared to trust that it was for good.   I didn’t know how to keep you from Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde-ing on me again. If I gave in and loved you, and then you reverted back to psychotic jackass mode, it would hurt so much worse than it had before. How would I survive losing you all over again?
> 
> I read the following quote once, and it brought me the epiphany that I needed about you and about that time in our lives:
> 
> I do not trust people who don't love themselves and yet tell me, 'I love you.'
> 
>                                                                                           – Maya Angelou
> 
> You didn’t love yourself at all, and I hated who I had become; what it was doing to those around me. How could I admit that I loved you when, at the core, we were the same and I couldn’t stand myself? And worse, what would happen when you realized one day that I wasn’t enough for you? I was so sure it would happen eventually because, well, why would you want the dregs of who I used to be?
> 
> It has been a very long road but I’ve had nine years to pack those issues into a big, heavy lead chest. When I decided to stay in Neptune, I closed the lid. When I decided to come back to you, I put on the lock. With these emails, I am throwing it out to sea.
> 
> I need you to understand this single truth with no lingering doubts and no ambiguity:
> 
> I trust you.
> 
> Completely and totally. No awkward questions, no tracking devices.
> 
>  Forever.
> 
>  

Veronica reread her response, trying to figure out how to lighten it up, pull back on some of the emotion she was still so uncomfortable with all these years later. But she couldn’t bring herself to do that to him.

_You need him to get this one, Mars. Leave it._

Taking a deep breath, she continued without touching her previous words.

 

> **17\. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh?**
> 
> Snark is too important to my existence for me to be with someone who doesn’t make me laugh. The whole point of snark is the laugh at the end. I will admit that no one comes close to your skill level at snarking. Others have amused me, but my dear, you blow them all out of the water. Your sense of humor is even more appealing now that it’s lost the edge of cruelty it used to have. The Navy has instilled tact and humility into you, and it definitely shows in the person you’ve become.
> 
> **27\. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust?**
> 
> Three: Dad, Wallace, and you. The order varies depending on the quality of the gifts. ;P
> 
> **30\. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything?**
> 
> I don’t know that I will ever feel completely comfortable doing that. I do know that this time, I _want_ to tell you everything, and that’s new for me. I’m going to take that as a sign that we are doing this the right way.
> 
> **58\. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling?**
> 
> Fourth times the charm? Fifth? What are we up to now? ;P
> 
> **91\. Does everyone deserve a second chance?**
> 
> I always thought so. But, despite all those times we got back together, I guess that even though I wanted to give you your second (and third, and fourth) chance, I was never truly able to. That lack of trust was such a horrible thing to do to you too, because it meant that we never really had a hope in hell of succeeding.   But as I already said above, it was my issues with trust that were to blame, not you.
> 
> I think, though, that it’s time to discuss Madison. What we have now, it’s our final chance. I think we both know it’s do or die, and it seems only fair to address the reason we broke up that last time, even if it seems so very irrelevant now. In order for us to work this time, I need to explain to you how I’ve changed.
> 
> You never really knew what happened, did you? No reason you would, I guess, seeing as I never told anyone. I ran into Madison at a lingerie shop while I was shopping for a gift for you. She practically glowed telling me about how you had hooked up in Aspen. While I stood there, already unsure about what I was buying for our date, she critiqued my choice, telling me what you would like better based on her time with you. I was so mortified that it never occurred to me that she could be lying about what happened or that you weren’t an enthusiastic participant. On top of that, it’s no secret that I was never comfortable with our vastly different levels of experience in the bedroom. As amazing as I found our sex life, I was sure that in the long run, I could never be enough for you. I certainly wasn’t as experienced as most of the people you slept with. I heard you with Kendall, Logan, and there was no way I could compete with the images those sounds brought to my mind. I believed Madison because it fed every doubt that I had about myself. I meant it when I said I would never get over her.
> 
> And then I didn’t mean it so much anymore.
> 
> As they say, time heals all wounds. After all of these years, I am absolutely over it. Knowing that you were with someone so inconsequential bothers me less than thinking about all of the sex you’ve had with women who _did_ matter. I know you loved Carrie, and I don’t begrudge you that, truly I don’t. But seeing your (so very unsexy) leg erotica hurt my heart in a way I never want it to hurt again. I understand now how you could have beat up Piz and then Gory over that tape; I even get the reunion brawl. For the first time, I understand what seeing it must have felt like for you.
> 
> I’m so grateful for second chances now. You have given me one, even though I disappointed you so often by leaving. I’m not leaving ever again; I want to be in your life, forever. Most of all, I’ve grown up, had time to get comfortable with sex (maybe honed my skills a little bit J). I’ve come to realize how incredible it actually was between us then (and is now) because it’s never been like that with anyone else since. I don’t ever want to know anything different ever again.
> 
> Fifty-three minutes until you’re here. I’ll see you soon!
> 
> I love you!
> 
> ~V

 

* * *

 

The deafening roar of the fighter jets flying in groups of six overhead was like nothing Veronica had ever experienced. It was all was completely surreal. Hundreds of people crowded around the hangar, noisy and boisterous, barely able to contain their joy at finally being reunited with their loved ones. It seemed like every one of them carried a small flag, snapping in the wind. As promised, many of the ladies were dressed in A-lined, patterned dresses. Mace’s fiancée had contacted Veronica to provide some survival tips (at Logan’s suggestion), and counseled wearing blue and white, the squad’s colours. Veronica had scoured the vintage thrift shops for days looking for an appropriate cupcake dress. She’d even found a costume jewelry pearl choker and earring set that suited the look perfectly. She thought that she had done pretty well, all things considered.

She was standing a little apart from the other wives and girlfriends, her excitement tightly controlled compared to their cheering and clapping. She had met Lidia (“Call me Liddy”), Mace’s fiancée, but she had so many family members present that she was distracted. The other wives and girlfriends were equally welcoming, but were busy with the arrival of their own Navy heroes. Honestly, this suited Veronica just fine. She’d never admit to Logan that he was right when he said that these events were not really her cup of tea. This was going to be a part of her life now for at least the next four or five years. Maybe longer, depending on what Logan decided to do when his eight-year initial commitment was done. She had better start making the best of it.

The first two groups of planes had already landed. The third and final group, Logan’s, could be heard in the distance, and she scanned the sky for sight of them. Suddenly, small dots appeared in perfect V formation. Logan was supposed to be at the head, place of honour in recognition for his injury during the mission. Veronica just stared in awe as the planes swept overhead, turned in perfect unison and came back in for landing. That was _Logan_ up there. Her brain was having problems processing the reality of that thought. She didn’t even notice the tears falling down her cheeks brought on by the emotion of it all.

“Pretty spectacular, isn’t it?” Liddy shouted over the din.

“I had no idea.” Veronica answered, unable to take her eyes off Logan’s plane, now rolling to a stop.

“C’mon, let’s go welcome our boys home.”

The hatch opened, but Veronica refused to move until she was sure it was him. She watched as the two pilots climbed down and pulled off their helmets. Logan scanned the crowd quickly for her face as he stepped around Liddy, who had already launched herself at the other pilot who Veronica assumed was Mace. His face broke into an amused and appreciative smile as his eyes raked over her dress and pearls. She had spent the last 180 days dreaming about that smile and, as his eyes locked on hers, she felt the flush start at her cheeks and settle below her navel. Even from a distance of fifty feet, Logan’s gaze could affect her like nothing else.

_He made it. Thank you, God._

The anxiety that she had carried from the moment that he walked out of the beach house washed out of her.   She felt lighter than she had felt in what seemed like forever. Unable to contain herself any longer -and silently thankful for the flats she was wearing- Veronica took off across the tarmac.

Logan quickly lobbed his helmet to a surprised crewman just in time to catch Veronica as she jumped into his arms. She looked him in the eye and said those magical words to his face for the first time: “I love you.” Her lips landed on his, and just like that, they were truly home.

 

* * *

 

Four hours later, all that could be heard in the dimly lit hotel room in downtown San Diego was the rhythmic slap of their bodies mixed with their panting breaths.

“Logan!”

“Veronica!”

Both names echoed nearly simultaneously. Almost immediately, the pounding on the wall started again.

“We really should let those poor people sleep.” Veronica smirked over her shoulder at Logan, who was standing next to the bed, trying to get his breathing under control while slipping out of her and cleaning himself up.

Logan quirked an eyebrow in response and said ungraciously, “Yeah, they can go fuck themselves. Maybe they’ll have learned a thing or two listening to us for the last three hours. There is no way that I will let someone else dictate the agenda of my homecoming.”

Thinking of the email she sent earlier, Veronica laughed at the irony of Logan’s statement.

“Why are you smiling like I just made the funniest joke since _Airplane II_?”

“I was thinking about the email I sent you earlier.” Logan looked at her quizzically and reached for his phone as he settled back into the bed. “Don’t worry about it now!” she exclaimed, unsuccessfully grabbing for his arms in an attempt to pull them around her. “We have some serious cuddling to do, and then another round of _Let’s Wake Up the Neighbours_.”

“I can cuddle and read at the same time, Bobcat. Multitasking is one of the many talents they teach you in Officers training.”

“Wait! Not right-“

But Logan had already swiped open his phone and begun reading.

“-now. Fine, whatever.” Veronica rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, waiting for Logan to finish reading the email. Her waggling foot belied the air of nonchalance she was attempting to project.

A few minutes later Logan closed his phone, replaced it on the bedside table, and rolled to his side so that he was facing Veronica, head propped on his hand.

“And you say you aren’t a romantic. I promise you that I will get us that tub.” Logan kissed the tip of Veronica’s nose. “I have two months to find something acceptable, right? We said two months?” He was giving her an out if she didn’t want to discuss the email. He simply stared at her, smiling gently, waiting to see what she would say.

“That’s it?” Veronica blurted out, surprised.

“No. How’s Leo doing? I hope you thanked him for me while you were there.”

“Logan!” Exasperated, Veronica sat up, the sheet pooling around her legs, now crossed Indian style.

Eyes darkening at the site of her naked breasts, Logan took a deep (and slightly frustrated) breath, moved the sheet away from both of them, and mirrored her position. He grabbed both of her hands.

“I can see what you reacted to before. You were talking about hearing me with Kendall.”

“Mmmhmm.” Veronica was looking down at their joined hands.

“Please look at me.” Logan requested softly.

Taking a deep breath, Veronica steeled her resolve to discuss this properly face to face and looked up. She was instantly drowning in the love that she saw there. Suddenly, she was completely confident that they would survive this conversation.

“I’d hoped to have a few more days before having to discuss this.”

“All right.” Logan acquiesced and leaned forward, his head making a beeline for her neck, ready to start round four.

Veronica put up her hands to stop him, and snorted. “Yeah, because I’ll be able to concentrate with this hanging between us.”

“Baby, if you have to concentrate while we do this, then I am seriously out of practice.” Logan said with a faux-pout.

She kissed him, quick and deep, and then shook her head morosely, “I guess so.” Logan lunged at her and began attacking all of the spots he knew would send her into howls of laughter.

“Stop! I want to talk about this, you goof!”

His mission to lighten the mood accomplished, Logan set them both back into their previous positions, holding hands. “You were saying?”

“I wasn’t saying anything. I was waiting for your reaction to what I wrote.”

“I want that chest thrown so deep into the ocean that it never stops sinking. There, can I enjoy your chest now?” He ducked his head to capture her breast with his mouth.

“Logan! I’m trying to be open and adult here. You are not helping!” Veronica squirmed out of the way, but not before she arched into him slightly, letting them both enjoy his touch before continuing.

Groaning, he pulled back and looked at her again; she really did want to have this conversation. He smiled softly, acknowledging this new aspect of Veronica. He really should enjoy it while he could. His tone serious, he began, “Veronica, I intend to spend the next fifty years of our lives eradicating all memory of the two horrible years I put you through in high school. But that was a long time ago.” He searched her eyes. “I’m neither of those people anymore. Both Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde have left the building. I’ve come a long way since then, and we can only work if you trust the person I am now.”

“I know. I trust you.” Veronica said unwaveringly.

Logan’s eyes shone with pleasure. “You know, _I trust you_ is almost better to hear than _I love you._ You may not always trust the person you love, God knows our history proves that, but you can always love the person you trust.”

Veronica leaned forward to kiss him softly. “I love you too.”

“Nope, I was wrong. _I love you_ is still better.”   Logan couldn’t help smiling as he answered in a slightly awed tone. He didn’t think he would ever be able to react any differently when he heard her say those words to him.

“About Madison…“ Veronica began.

Logan quickly dragged her out of the bed and into the sitting area. He pulled her onto his lap on the couch, her legs on either side, straddling him.

“Logan! What are you-?”

“I don’t ever want to bring her name into our bed again.” Logan said firmly.

Tenderly, Veronica caressed his face with her hands, and kissed him, eyes open so that he could see the love shining there. “I’m sorry.”

Logan looked a little sick at the memories that played in his mind. “I can’t change what I’ve done. Kendall, Madison…all of them.”

“No, but I can change how I react to it. I told you, I’ve moved on. I never realized what a cure a punch to the face is.” Veronica’s eyes twinkled with the memory of a bedraggled Madison lying sputtering on the floor. “Besides, now I know that your _actual_ favorite lingerie is chocolate chocolate chip and Cool Whip. She was clearly delusional.”

“And Carrie?” Logan asked carefully.

Just like that, he watched the twinkle extinguish, and the familiar panic he thought was long forgotten rose in his chest.

“And Piz?” Veronica retorted.

“Pshaw! Nothing but a place holder.” Logan responded with a bravado he didn’t feel.

“You made love to her.”

“I did.” Logan looked her straight in the eyes, pausing briefly. “You made love to Piz.”

“It wasn’t the same as it’s always been with you.”

“You’re right, it wasn’t."

They stared at each other a long time, acknowledging in silent conversation that everything that happened before just made them the right people for each other today. Ready to move on and lighten the mood, Veronica smirked. “Wow, physically naked and emotionally naked all at once, and no crater around us to show for it. Yay us for successfully navigating our first grown-up discussion.”

“So what’s my prize?” Logan’s voice was husky, eyelids half-closed, cock twitching in anticipation.

Veronica ground slowly into Logan’s lap before climbing off and looking coyly over her shoulder. “Take me to bed, or lose me forever!”

Logan grumbled, “That’s never going to get old, is it?”

“Nope.” Veronica laughed. “Go get the ice cream and I’ll meet you in the bedroom, Lieutenant.”

Logan jumped up off the couch, clipped his heels together smartly and saluted. “Aye aye, Captain.”

The next morning, Mr. and Mrs. Douglas from Boise, Idaho, hunch-backed and doddering, went down to the front desk to complain that people of their time of life had earned the right to a quiet night’s sleep. The desk clerk consoled them with the news that the balance of their hotel bill had been paid in full by one Lt. Echolls, with his apologies and a recommendation that they ask for a different room for the remainder of their stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so fortunate to have found two excellent betas to help me in my first ever fic writing experience. ELSchaaf and BryroseA were both invaluable with the feedback, so thank you both from the bottom of my shipper heart.
> 
> To everyone who left comments, I'm trying to respond to them all. Thank you so so so very much for your kind words and encouragement. You are all enablers because now I can't get enough of writing. I'll have to come up with another plot bunny somehow. I can't believe the volume of comments and kudos that you have all left, and am humbled by the whole experience.


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't think it would end this way, to be honest, but I found as I was writing it, I had no choice. Enjoy, and thanks again for all the support.

_16 months later_

 

Logan quietly entered the bathroom carrying a small tray of lit votive candles and two glasses of wine. He laid the candles around the massive claw foot bathtub that was almost overflowing with bubbles and settled the wine glasses within reach on a small table. Veronica’s head, supported by a bath pillow, was the only part of her that was visible amid all the bubbles; her eyes were closed. 

It was twilight, and Logan had arrived home from the base just a little while before, discarded his service khakis in the bedroom, and entered the bathroom completely naked. He bent down and whispered softly in Veronica’s ear, “Is there room for me?” 

Veronica lazily opened one eye and smiled. “This thing is the size of an Olympic pool, Logan. There’s room for your entire squad in here.”

“Not today, sweetums. The last time they were here the water polo game got out of hand and I was dolling out KP duty as punishment for a week.” Veronica giggled as Logan slipped in behind her. They settled back with a contented sigh.

“So?” Veronica asked lightly, but Logan wasn’t fooled.

“We leave in two months,” he answered quietly.

“How long?” Her voice was barely audible as she tried to keep it from wavering.

He matched her tone. “Same as last time.”

“Oh.”

Veronica stared out of the window next to the fireplace, watching the waves crash onto the beach as the storm raged outside.

“Yeah.” Logan reached over to the remote and clicked on the fire.

“Did you talk to the ombudsman about putting me on the call list?”

“Yeah. No go. They’re pretty firm on the Immediate Family Only rule. Very 1950s. They didn’t really care that my sister wasn’t an option.”

“Oh.”

Logan desperately tried to think of a way to make it all better. He couldn’t. “I really tried, V.”

“I know." 

They lay wrapped around each other for a long time, until the darkness outside was absolute and the waves could only be heard and not seen.

 

* * *

 

 

A few days later, they were in their home office, each at a separate desk working on laptops. Veronica was scanning through her latest stakeout photos, trying to decide if it was better to include the pictures with the guy answering the door in the pink lacy underwear in her report, or if the ones of him receiving the blowjob from the hooker were proof enough for his wife. Logan was scrolling his Tumblr dash. 

“Well isn’t _that_ interesting.” Logan said, amused by something on his screen. 

“Hmm?” Veronica questioned, distracted. 

“Heather’s post.”

She looked up impatiently. “Yes, and…?”

Logan was enjoying drawing out the wait and seeing that mild frustration on Veronica’s face; especially given where he was going with the conversation.

“Logan, I’m sitting here staring at Mr. Milburn in a pink, fuzzy, dime store G-String that is not doing a good job of holding anything in place. Please get on with whatever you want to tell me so that I can finish this and go bleach my eyeballs.”

Logan looked over at her screen and laughed at the image “That is NAS-TY!” He shuddered and then continued, affectionately with just the slightest hint of mockery. “So, Heather posted a set of questions to her Tumblr page today.   It seems that our meme has a few last questions that you never got around to answering. Imagine. My. Surprise!”

Raising her eyebrow at his sarcasm, Veronica went back to her pictures. “I told you I never got around to answering all of the questions,” she replied drily.

“You did. I just didn’t realize the content of the ones you never got to, the only THREE that you neglected to send. Really? You couldn’t find a way to get to the last _three_?” Logan was more amused than angry, despite his words. He wasn’t in the least bit surprised to learn which questions had gone unanswered.

Veronica sighed and shook her head melodramatically. “And here I was, trying to keep some mystery alive in our relationship,” she quipped.

She stood up and walked over to Logan’s large wing-backed desk chair. She pushed it back and proceeded to straddle his lap. His hands settled automatically on her hips, his thumbs gently caressing her stomach under her T-shirt, just below her bra. She moved her arms around his neck and nuzzled his ear.

“We’re back to evasive maneuvers, are we?” Logan smirked at her as she pulled back.

“Just stalling while I-” Veronica dragged his lower lip with her teeth. “-figure out how best to respond to your discovery.” She looked him in the eye nervously. “OK?”

Logan chuckled. “Like I could ever turn you down when you’re like this, Bobcat. Consider me distracted. But we _will_ be discussing this eventually.” He quickly pulled Veronica’s shirt over her head and unclasped her bra in one smooth move.

“Of course we will.” She arched her chest towards him as his mouth found her nipple, and she congratulated herself silently that she hadn’t lost her touch.

 

* * *

 

 

Three hours, two rooms and five orgasms later, Veronica slipped out of their bed quietly while Logan slept and headed back to the office, throwing on the T-shirt he’d discarded in the hallway on her way. She reopened her computer and logged into her email. _Damn Heather and her Tumblr account._ Opening her Drafts folder, she pulled up an email that was dated nearly seventeen months prior.

Veronica stared at the remaining three questions and the rough answers she had drafted all those months ago.

 

**70\. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?**

**90\. Opinions on marriage?**

**92\. Do you want to get married?**

 

She knew the Tumblr meme wasn’t the only reason Logan had brought up the issue. The rapidly approaching deadline of his deployment in seven and a half short weeks was not lost on her . And anyway, the subject of marriage had been weighing pretty heavily on her mind lately; it seemed to be coming at her from all directions.

First, Logan’s failed attempt at convincing the ombudsman to put Veronica on the emergency call list did not leave any other options for providing her with first hand information. Then there was Wallace’s engagement announcement a few weeks ago. Now the Tumblr post. It seemed like everywhere she looked, marriage and weddings topped the menu du jour.

Logan knew her views on marriage well enough that he had certainly never brought up the question before now. But, now that he was leaving again, she supposed he had a valid excuse to begin testing the waters. It was never any secret that he wanted to get married, but he wasn’t willing to risk losing her to get it. This was her call, and she knew it. 

But what _was_ her call? 

_Excellent question, Veronica. You need to be honest with him. And yourself._

 

> From: Veronica Mars <[vmars@marsinvestigations.com](mailto:vmars@marsinvestigations.com)>
> 
> Date: Sat, 18 Nov 2017 20:22
> 
> To: Logan Echolls <l.echolls@usnavy.gov>
> 
> Subject: Can I stall some more?
> 
> Dear Logan, 
> 
> I should have known you would find out about these questions eventually. I actually did answer them way back when; I just never sent them. They’ve been sitting in my Drafts folder ever since your last deployment, but have also been rattling around actively in my mind for the last few weeks. I guess today is the day I try and make sense of everything for you.
> 
> **70\. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?**
> 
> I certainly never pictured it being Navy fighter pilot. I am so proud of you, I hope you know that. Listening to you talk about flying, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so passionate about anything, not even surfing. I’m so glad you found something you love to do. You in those dress whites also goes pretty far toward reconciling me to your career choice. ;P 
> 
> I know that we’ve spoken a bit about your options after your initial eight-year commitment is up.   I assume that you will be deployed probably at least one other time before you’re done. I have to admit, that sounds daunting. Please don’t get nervous, but we said 100% truth, and I’m trying here. I barely held on during those last six months. I don’t know how I’m going to get through these next ones and then one more deployment. I can’t tell you how much I will miss you. We’ll take it one day at a time, I guess. I’m not going anywhere over this, I promise, but I have a new appreciation for your feelings about me putting myself in danger. Trust me when I say that I get it now.
> 
> Logan, I have to ask, I need to know. Have you decided yet what you’re planning to do after your commitment is up? Is the Navy a career for you? Please ignore my freak out above and tell me what you would have done if I hadn’t come into the picture. I’ve come to realize that a person needs to do what they love and be who they are, to be happy and whole. It took me a long time to learn that. I would never want to sacrifice your happiness and your needs just to calm me down. We will need to compromise, of course, but to begin negotiations, we need to know what our starting points are. Right now, mine is being a PI in Neptune, with you.
> 
> **90\. Opinions on marriage?**
> 
> _Marriage is a three ring circus: engagement ring, wedding ring, and suffering._
> 
>                                                                                                   - Anonymous
> 
> For a long time, I really did believe this. To me, marriage was a useless institution that was meaningless and just made all parties ultimately miserable. Cheating spouses, alimony, divorce lawyers, bitterness. People left anyway, so why go through the hassle of marriage only to have to deal with the annoyance and cost of divorce? My parents, your parents, the Kanes. Even Wallace, who is the most normal person I know, had a single mom. There were Mac’s parents who still seemed to be in love, but they appeared to be the exception rather than the rule.
> 
> Then I left Neptune and I saw a little more of the world. I watched little old Greek couples sitting at their windows watching life go by in the village, holding hands. I saw the vow renewal of a friend’s parents on their thirty-fifth wedding anniversary; the two of them were dancing together and clearly still as in love as they were at twenty. I accidentally walked into a bathroom in a restaurant where I was waitressing in France to see the husband and wife owners…well, you get the idea.
> 
> So, maybe it can be done. Maybe Neptune is just the place where marriages go to die. We don’t technically live in Neptune, anyway, right?
> 
> I don’t know if I’m totally convinced at this point, and my job certainly does not help to give me any kind of perspective. But my mind is more open than it was.
> 
> **92\. Do you want to get married?**
> 
> The thing is, I feel like if we were to get married now, it would be because of the Navy’s archaic and completely nonsensical rules regarding emergency communication. You deserve so much better than that as a reason, Logan.
> 
> This is not me saying no, never. This is me saying not right now. This is me saying that we should do it when there isn’t bureaucratic red-tape dictating the reason and the timeline.
> 
> Please tell me you understand? Please tell me you’re not mad?
> 
> I love you less than I will tomorrow and more than you will ever know.
> 
> ~V

 

Veronica hit send with a last little prayer that she didn’t just start WWIII.

_Logan will understand. He has to understand._

She got up and walked back to the bedroom, hoping to get in a little more cuddling before he read the letter. God only knew what would happen when he did.

 _Logan will understand. He has to understand._

Maybe if she repeated it enough times, it would come true. 

Walking through the door, she stopped dead at the sight of Logan sitting up in bed with his phone in his hand, staring off into space.

“Logan-“ she began, panic evident on her face.

“I’m not surprised, V. You don’t need to look like that.” Logan’s voice was calm and gentle, but Veronica could still hear the hint of disappointment beneath it. He placed the phone back on the nightstand, turned to her, and held open his arms, inviting her back to bed. She gratefully accepted his invitation and climbed in, wrapping herself around him, trying to get as close as possible so that he knew that she didn’t want to be anywhere else.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too. Will you let me plead my case, at least?” he asked with a smirk.

She looked up at him searchingly for a moment before deciding that he had a right to respond to what she’d written.

“The court recognizes Lt. Echolls. Proceed,” she answered, trying to keep it light.

“Lady of the court, it is the position of this Naval officer that one Veronica Mars has got it all wrong.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes, Your Honour. I respectfully submit Exhibit #1: We have successfully cohabited for fourteen months without killing each other. Exhibit #2: We plan to continue said cohabitation indefinitely. Exhibit #3: We make sweet, sweet, earth-shattering loooove, and are currently doomed to go to hell because the cohabitation and sex occur out of wedlock.”

Veronica snorted at that last, knowing full well neither of them gave a damn about “living in sin”.

Logan overrode her interruption. “With all due respect, Your Honour, I’m not done. Exhibit #4: We do not, indeed, live in Neptune, and so its effects on marriage do not apply.” Logan and Veronica had elected to buy a beach house about half way between the base and the MI offices, which was technically just on the outside of the city limits. It was part of their financial compromise as well, because real estate there was cheaper, and Veronica could contribute in a more meaningful way to their lifestyle.

“Exhibit #5: Mac’s parents, French restaurant owners, old Greek people and the other 50% of couples in the US who make it work.”

Veronica stared at him lovingly. She was beginning to think that he’d have made a pretty good lawyer.

“You make quite a case, there, Counselor. The judge will consider your evidence and render her decision at a later date.” 

Looking down at their intertwined bodies and then sideways at Veronica from under his lashes, Logan looked distinctly nervous about his next statement. “I think I’d like to stay with the Navy, you know, when my eight years are up,” he said hurriedly, as though if he said it fast she might not react so badly.

Veronica squeezed him fiercely as she let the implications of what he said penetrate. “Logan, I won’t pretend that the thought of that doesn’t terrify me, but at least if I know what you want to do, then we can start figuring out what that means on a practical level and how to deal with it.”

“If we were married, it would make the Navy stuff easier, not just for communication, there would be benefits and resources to support you while I’m gone, too.”

Veronica sighed. “Look, Logan, I hear what you’re saying, and I agree with it. I really, really do. I’m getting there. Can you wait a little longer?” She was looking at him pleadingly. 

Logan tightened his hold on her until she relaxed a little, kissed the top of her head and then said, “OK, how about this option.” He reached over into the nightstand and dug a ring box out of his drawer.

Veronica’s eyes widened when she saw what he pulled out. She thought it was to her credit, though, that she didn’t pull away from his embrace; found that she didn’t even want to, in fact. _Well that’s not the reaction I expected, given the situation._ She was actually kind of curious to see what the ring looked like. _  
_

“How about if we just get engaged, you know, indefinitely?” Logan suggested nervously. He fidgeted with the box as he looked up at her through his lashes. “I had to go into my safety deposit box yesterday to get some papers and I saw one of my grandmother’s rings. She got it for her sweet sixteen, and then gave it to my mom on _her_ sixteenth birthday. I thought, I don’t know, we’re high school sweethearts and all, it seemed kind of fitting. I knew right away that the style was minimalist enough for you, so I grabbed it before I could talk myself out of it. I’d rather you wear it than have it just sit hidden away.” He opened the lid and turned it toward her.

Raising his face, his gaze locked on hers, eyes liquid gold with love and hope that he had found the right compromise. “Marry me, Veronica? Not tomorrow, or even this year or next, if you aren’t ready. But eventually. Or not. We could just stay engaged, like Mac was telling me they do up in Quebec. Whatever. At least we’ll have made this promise of forever to each other. When I’m not here, I’d like this ring to tell the rest of the world that you have someone who loves you.”

Veronica stared at him for a long moment, considering the offer he was making. Getting engaged, wearing the ring, wasn’t getting married. It was just a promise.

_But really, Veronica, haven’t you made that promise to him already? Will wearing the ring change anything? All it will do is make him feel more secure, and it will let you have some time to get used to the idea._

“The court finds this option satisfactory, and moves to adjourn for celebratory sexcapades.” Veronica reached for the box, which was a good thing, because Logan let it slip through his fingers as he went numb with shock.

“Wait, what?!?” 

“Are you changing your mind? Because you made quite a case. I’ll be very disappointed if all of that evidence goes to waste.” Veronica slipped the ring onto her finger and held it up. It really was a beautiful piece: simple and not grotesquely huge like the rings of some of the wives that she saw as clients.

Logan was still sitting motionless, like he was afraid that by moving all of his dreams would evaporate. “Are you saying yes? Really truly?”

Veronica giggled at his reaction, hiding the low level of panic that had developed in her gut. “Yes, Logan. I will marry you. Eventually. Or whatever.” 

The look of pure joy that came over Logan’s face was perfection. He lunged at her, kissing her desperately, hands everywhere at once, unable to contain himself. Veronica responded in kind. Because right now, today, she knew she couldn’t do it, but Logan was willing to wait for her to get there. In the meantime, everyone would know that he would come back to her, and that she would be there waiting, always.

**Author's Note:**

> I got inspired by all the wonderful writers I follow, as well as the one of a kind Tumblr fandom that I am lucky to be a part of. A million thank yous to my wonderful beta @ELSchaaf, who has convinced me this isn't utter crap and to keep going.


End file.
